WK2: Armani Weekend
by Mice2
Summary: SLASH: Doggett/Byers. Doggett takes Byers to NYC for a weekend on the town that they'll never forget.
1. Friday

Well Kept 2: Armani Weekend  
Chapter 1: Friday  
Author: Mice  
Email: just_us_mice@yahoo.com  
Category: Doggett/Byers   
Rating: R, mild consensual bdsm kinks  
Summary: Doggett takes Byers to NYC to buy a suit and have a weekend on the town. Smut, angst, and complications ensue.  
Archive: Basement, Lone Slasher, Countermeasures, XFMU, LGM Fanfic Bunker, Glass Onion, all others ask.  
Feedback: Feed me, Seymour!  
Website: Mice's Hole in the Wall -- http://www.squidge.org/~surrealarts/mice.html  
Spoilers: Do they even have those anymore? JTS does NOT exist.  
Disclaimer: We deserve 'em more than CC does. They still belong to him, though.  
Author's Notes: NYC beta and Doggett dialect coaching provided by Amazon X. Kinky stuff supervised by Mistress Lady Kate. Rae gave General Beta From Hell, and in such a wonderful way. Thanks to Colonel M for passing Doggett's Marine 'tude. In the XF universe, people have enough trouble. September 11 never happened here. The Manhattan skyline is as it was before that date. This is AU for the XF universe. Mulder wasn't dead when he got back, and he's medically retired from the FBI now. Scully was never pregnant.  
  
ARMANI EXCHANGE  
51ST STREET AND 5TH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY  
FRIDAY, LATE MORNING  
  
Byers was nervous. Not the paranoid nervous he got when he was out funky poaching, nor the nervous of working a dangerous hack, nor even the nervous he got when he was horny and didn't want people to notice. No, this was the nervous of doing something he'd never done before. It wasn't a bad nervous, just slightly unsettling. He stared up at the building before him.  
  
"You comin' in or what," Doggett asked.   
  
They hadn't really had the chance to see each other for anything but coffee or lunch since the month before, when they had their first intimate encounter. Both had been eager to get together again, and Doggett had suggested the weekend in New York, as he'd made a few promises to Byers before. The first thing on Doggett's agenda was buying Byers a new suit. Despite Doggett's promise, it had never been anything Byers had actually expected to happen, given the expense, but there they were.  
  
Byers was wearing one of his better suits -- dark blue wool -- but it was definitely more Sears bargain basement than something suitable for a weekend on the town. His hands were in his pockets and he felt uneasy.   
  
Doggett opened the door and held it for him, motioning with his head. "C'mon. We got an appointment."  
  
Byers sighed, then passed through the door, and Doggett followed him in. "Somethin' wrong, Johnny?"  
  
"I feel vastly under-dressed." Byers blushed. He looked around at all the impeccably dressed men in the store, sporting outrageously expensive suits with fine silk ties in subtle but powerfully masculine color combinations. Doggett was one of them. He wished he measured up to the standard being set for him. He felt rather like a poor relation, standing next to the rugged, handsome FBI agent.  
  
"Well, that's why we're here. We're gonna take care of that. By the time we get to the show Sunday night, you're gonna look spectacular. Not that you don't look good right now," Doggett said, grinning. He ran the tips of his fingers down Byers' back. "But you're gonna look hot in your new suit." He rested his hand in the small of Byers' back and guided him into the building.  
  
The touch sent an almost imperceptible tremor down Byers' spine. He wasn't given to displays of physical affection in public, particularly not with other men. The touch was small and intimate, but it was as much about their power game as it was about the physical contact itself. He knew that Doggett was laying subtle claim to him, letting him know who was in charge. He savored the discreet eroticism of it.  
  
Doggett gave Byers a faint smile. Byers knew that Doggett was well aware of what he was doing to him. It was apparent that Doggett had plans for their first night in the City. He'd been slowly teasing Byers over the course of the day, and this was just the latest in a series of fairly subtle games. Byers wondered where it would all end up, hoping it would be as good as the first time.  
  
A tall, elegantly handsome dark haired man, probably in his early 50s, approached them. "Ah, John, it's good to see you again!" His voice was faintly accented, with an Italian flavor to it.  
  
"Sergio, how you been?" Doggett took the man's outstretched hand and shook it firmly. With a look to Byers, he said, "Johnny, this is Sergio Brentali, the sales manager. Sergio, John Byers."  
  
Brentali looked Byers up and down with a practiced eye. "Quite well, thank you. And this is the gentleman who will be fitted today?"  
  
Doggett nodded. "First time," he said.  
  
Brentali smiled. "Well, Mr. Byers, I trust we can make this a delightful experience for you. A man's first Armani should be a memorable event." He turned to Doggett. "I know just the colors for him. Let's bring him to the fitting area, shall we?"  
  
Doggett's hand returned to the small of Byers' back, directing him as the two followed Brentali to the large, mirrored room just off the sales floor. Byers looked around nervously. There was a couch, several chairs, and a round dias in the center of the room, like a small stage.  
  
"Have a seat, John," Brentali said, motioning to the couch. He snapped his fingers and a young man appeared. "Ernesto, bring Mr. Doggett his espresso please. What will Mr. Byers be having?" The question was directed to Doggett.  
  
"Cappuccino with cinnamon," Doggett said, easing back into the cushions of the couch. He'd apparently been paying far closer attention to him than Byers expected. Ernesto nodded and disappeared.   
  
An older man entered the room, his fingers covered with chalk. He had a tape measure draped over his neck, and a note pad in his pocket. He looked at Byers. "Come up to the dias, sir." He waved Byers up to stand in the center of the small raised area. Byers moved quietly in front of the man, who moved his body with firm hands to stand straight, then quickly measured him in all dimensions. It was over in moments, and the tailor stepped down, consulted with Brentali in whispers for a moment, then vanished.  
  
"Come sit down, Johnny," Doggett said. He patted the couch cushion beside him. As Byers approached, Ernesto returned and handed Doggett an espresso and Byers a cappuccino. He vanished once again, not saying a word.  
  
Byers took his place on the couch next to Doggett. "What's next?" he asked.  
  
"The tailor's gonna get you some suits to try on. He'll bring back some shirts and stuff too, to go with them. I'll pick the colors and style I like on you. It'll be okay. Have some of that coffee." Doggett sipped his own espresso. "It's damn good here. All Italian stuff."  
  
Byers nodded and sipped his cappuccino. It really was good. The cinnamon had been handled lightly, just enough without being either too delicate or overpowering. He closed his eyes and inhaled, taking in the sharp, rich scent. The small cup was warm between his hands, steadying some of his nervousness. The sales manager seemed to know Doggett fairly well, from what he could tell by their talk. He wondered exactly how well.  
  
Brentali sat on the arm of the couch next to Doggett. "So how long are you in town, John? It's been a while."  
  
"Just for the weekend," Doggett replied, sipping his espresso. "Gonna get some fancy food, catch a show, have a little fun on the town."  
  
"Ah." Brentali smiled. "Which show will you be seeing? There are some very good ones playing right now."  
  
"Just Cabaret. Old, but a decent musical."  
  
Brentali nodded. "A fine choice. Predictable, but good. Just like you." He flashed Doggett a wicked grin.  
  
"You wish you knew how good I was, Sergio." Doggett grinned back. He trailed the tips of his fingers slowly along the inseam of Byers' pants, pausing at his knee. Byers shivered. "And you know I'm not as predictable as you claim."  
  
"What, have you gotten better since last time I saw you in action?" Brentali looked down at Doggett under lowered lids, a knowing smirk on his lips. He looked over at Byers, who shrank uneasily into the couch under the sharp, assessing gaze. "And you're right. This one's not your usual type at all. Rather more delicate and bookish than I'd have expected."  
  
Byers blushed. This was verging into 'too much information' territory. Then again, information was his life. Over the past month, Byers had discovered that John Doggett kept his most private preferences and practices very close to his chest. He was aware that Doggett was a member of a BDSM club in New York, and one in D.C., whose memberships were not listed in any computer he had been able to hack. It wasn't something he'd been about to ask Langly's help for. The club's reputations, however, were spotless. Brentali was probably a member as well, he guessed.  
  
"Rather handsome, though," Brentali continued, "in a 'librarian next door' sort of way. He'll look exquisite in a double breasted two and four."  
  
Doggett nodded, eyeing Byers and continuing to sip his espresso. "That's why I brought him to you." His fingers slid back up from Byers' knee toward his crotch along the seam of his pants, then moved away.   
  
The touch was light as a sable brush, and Byers quickly raised his cappuccino to his lips, hoping the cup and his hands concealed his deepening blush. He doubted anything was going to conceal what was happening in his pants, though. His heart was beating fast, and his breath quickened. He hadn't thought Doggett would tease him like this in such a public place, under the eyes of a man he didn't know. It felt both dangerous and subtly erotic, and he knew this was the effect Doggett was driving for. The sharp boundaries of his shyness kept him in line, and the erotic undertone kept him on the edge of arousal. He hoped he'd be able to calm himself before he had to try the suits on and let the tailor mark the pants for adjustments.  
  
"You always did know how to make a guy look his best--" Doggett chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, "--under any circumstances."  
  
"Charcoal grey, I think," Brentali said softly, now staring at Byers with open admiration. Byers felt like a moth pinned to a velvet covered specimen board. If Brentali leaned closer, he was sure he'd start sweating. "It would complement those magnificent blue eyes. With a chalk white pinstripe for slight contrast. The color and lines of the suit will accentuate the slim hips and waist." Brentali motioned with one hand, sketching a thin, elegant shape in the air. "Burgundy for the shirt and tie. It would be an understated elegance, and I think he'll look delectable in that style."  
  
Doggett set his empty espresso cup on the tiny end table near the couch. Byers continued sipping his cappuccino, knowing that if he drank it too quickly, the caffeine rush would only make him jitter, and that was the last thing he needed right now. He wouldn't embarrass himself, or Doggett, in front of this man. He knew his social skills left something to be desired, but he also knew that Doggett expected him to be quiet and composed here. His uneasiness had to remain as private as possible, as did his arousal at the two men's interest.  
  
"Your color choices are right on, but don't go gettin' any ideas, there, Sergio. You know I don't share." Doggett placed a hand possessively on Byers' knee.   
  
Byers closed his eyes and focused on the touch, using it to calm himself as much as he could. He was relieved by Doggett reasserting his claim on him, but he had to admit that the two men's vying interests were flattering. After a moment, he looked back up at the them.  
  
Brentali sighed, but there was a smile on his face. "Some things never change, do they John?"  
  
Doggett opened his mouth to answer, but remained silent as the tailor returned carrying several suits, and a pile of other clothing with him. He set them down on the dias and motioned to Byers. A moment later, Ernesto reappeared. Byers set his empty cappuccino cup down and approached the dias.  
  
"Frederick," Brentali said, "show us the color range you've brought."  
  
"Of course, sir," the tailor replied. "Up here, Mr. Byers," he said quietly, once again placing Byers where he wanted him on the raised platform. When Byers stilled, he held up each of the four suits he'd brought, each in a differing shade of charcoal grey, with chalk white pinstripes.  
  
Doggett and Brentali sat on the couch now, side by side. "Ernesto," Brentali said, "please bring Mr. Doggett another espresso."  
  
Ernesto vanished quickly, and Doggett and Brentali watched as the tailor held the suits up near Byers' face so the two men could consider the colors against his skin tone.  
  
"Oh, oh, that one," Brentali said, indicating a fairly dark hue with a slight bluish undertone. There was a subtle note of arousal in his voice. "See how it accentuates those eyes, makes them appear bluer. Wouldn't you agree, John?"  
  
Doggett nodded. "You always did have the best eye for color I ever met, Sergio."  
  
The tailor handed the suit to Byers.   
  
"Go try that one on, Johnny," Doggett said. "Take the burgundy shirt and tie with you." He shooed Byers off the dias, and the tailor led the bearded man into one of the dressing rooms, carrying several items from the stack of other clothing with him.  
  
Brentali leaned to Doggett's ear, speaking quietly and privately. "He seems rather well behaved, despite his... skittishness, and quite delightfully shy. Where on earth did you find him?"  
  
Ernesto returned, handed Doggett his espresso, and vanished as silently as he'd arrived.  
  
"Friend of a friend," Doggett said. "He and a couple of his pals do a little research for me from time to time. They're damn good. They can find just about anything if they've got a good reason for it."  
  
"A research maven? Intelligent as well as handsome; how unusual. Is he obedient?"  
  
"Likes to struggle a little, but only enough to make things interesting. He likes it too much to actually disobey."  
  
Brentali arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't want to trade him for something more your type? I know a very muscular young Marine who's much more your usual style."  
  
Doggett shook his head. "Why, because Johnny's your type? You old letch." He laughed quietly. "Nah. Nobody owns him. No contract to trade you, no matter how much you whine." Byers would never forgive him if he even considered such a thing, though teasing Brentali amused him. It wasn't often he had the upper hand where the suave Italian was concerned. "Besides, he doesn't trust people very easy, and he doesn't know you. Wouldn't be willing to play with a stranger, and I won't do that to him."  
  
"Your consideration is commendable, John. I've always appreciated your grace as a Dom. But if you bring him to the club for a scene while you're in town, I'd love to watch. I imagine he's quite the sensitive type, very sensual under that demure exterior. He rather reminds me of a young colt." He sighed. "Such lovely, delicate skin. I'll wager he burns like redhead, poor thing. At any rate, you must let me know." He laid a hand on Doggett's shoulder and squeezed.  
  
Doggett chuckled again. "No scenes this time. I'm still breaking him in. If I bring him to the club, it'll be strictly to watch."  
  
The tailor emerged from the dressing area, leading Byers back to the dias. Doggett's breath caught at the sight. Brentali sighed, and held one thin hand over his mouth.  
  
"Oh, my," Brentali whispered, eyes alight. "He does clean up well. That atrocious thing he was wearing when you brought him in concealed so much. Are you sure you're not willing to share?"  
  
"Shit, no," Doggett muttered, excited. "You think I'm gonna share that? I'm no fool." He was already imagining what he wanted to do to Byers when he got him back to the hotel after dinner the next day -- and it involved leather wrist restraints, that fancy suit, and Byers' hot mouth around his shaft. He had to deliberately shake off the fantasy in order to concentrate on business.  
  
Byers stood, shifting as the men watched him with predatory expressions. Doggett watched him looking at himself in the mirrors around the room. Byers appeared very pleased with himself. Doggett couldn't blame him. The burgundy brought out the color in his skin, making him look rather less like he spent most of his life indoors, and the grey of the suit drew attention to his eyes, making them seem more intensely blue than usual. The jacket's cut gave the illusion of a broader chest and shoulders, and a more slender waist and hips. Doggett tried to ignore the effect it was having on him.  
  
"I'm willing to make you a serious offer if you ever get tired of him," Brentali muttered into Doggett's ear.  
  
Doggett shook his head and pinned a hard gaze on his old friend. "He's my new toy; I ain't hardly had time to enjoy him yet. Back off, Sergio." The dicker and tease was part of the game, but he found himself feeling very possessive of Byers, and the tone of his voice betrayed him. The hacker was his, and while it wasn't entirely true that he never shared, it was certainly far too early for anything of the sort. Brentali was pushing just a bit too hard for his taste at the moment.  
  
Brentali nodded. "Of course, John. You know I have the greatest respect for you." The reply was polite and friendly, but the heat remained in his eyes.   
  
Doggett couldn't fault him for it; he felt that same heat himself. He'd been right when he guessed that Byers would turn heads. Brentali was a man of exacting tastes who preferred shy, slender, intellectual types. If he hadn't sat up and taken notice, Doggett would have checked his pulse and called an ambulance.  
  
Byers looked back at Doggett, who made a circular motion with his finger. Byers turned slowly, letting Doggett and Brentali see him from all angles, finally returning to face front. The look in Brentali's eyes was a mix of jealousy and desire, leaving Byers feeling pleased yet almost naked at the stranger's scrutiny. Doggett's gaze was possessive, and he nodded to the tailor.  
  
"Please hold still for a few moments, Mr. Byers," the tailor said. With practiced, skillful hands, he tugged at the cloth, tightening here and there, making obscure marks in chalk that Byers knew would be transformed into perfectly fitting seams in the pants and jacket. The man's touch was at once intimate and professionally distant, distracting but stimulating in his heightened state of sensitivity.  
  
Considering the reaction he was getting from Doggett and Brentali, he couldn't wait to try the suit on when it fit properly. Byers thought he'd never looked so good in his life, and couldn't wait to see himself in the suit when it was properly tailored. He felt a rush of power and excitement within the vulnerable space he inhabited. He could feel the heat of Doggett and Brentali's eyes on him, the breathless depth of their interest, and the subtle sexual tension between the two as they sat on the couch playing their own power game. The silk against his skin added to the sensuality of the moment, and he could feel the pace of his heart pick up again. The power of the vulnerability and exposure he felt as they watched him, wanting him, was intense and arousing. He hoped the jacket would preserve his modesty to some extent.  
  
"Please remove the jacket, Mr. Byers," the tailor said. So much for his modesty. Byers swallowed and took off the jacket, draping it over one arm so the men could see the waistline of the pants as the tailor marked them. His pants were slightly loose, but not quite enough to conceal his arousal. He took a deep breath as Doggett and Brentali's eyes focused on his crotch, both of them attempting to hide their own reactions to him.   
  
"Will this be suitable, Mr. Brentali?" the tailor asked as he finished.  
  
"Turn around again, Johnny," Doggett ordered.   
  
Byers took a deep breath and turned in a slow circle where he stood. He knew the two men were looking at more than just the suit. He caught a glimpse of himself from the side in one of the mirrors, only to see his erection standing out slightly from that angle. He blushed but did his best to keep a straight face and continue standing tall as he finished his turn. He could feel the pulse pounding in his throat from his embarrassment.  
  
"Excellent, Frederick," Brentali said. "You may take him back to the dressing room and begin work on the tailoring when Mr. Byers is dressed again."  
  
"Yes, sir," the tailor replied, and once again led Byers to the dressing area. Byers could still feel the men's eyes on him. It excited him, and he smiled in satisfaction once his back was to them.  
  
Brentali sighed and shook his head. "I hope you'll at least bring him along to the club this evening for a few drinks and some dinner. He moves a little awkwardly sometimes, but he looks very trainable."  
  
"And I suppose you wanna be the guy to train him in the social graces, eh, Sergio?" Doggett laughed.  
  
"Well, if you ever require my assistance--"  
  
Doggett grinned. "Oh, no. I got this one totally in hand, pal. But I might bring him by the club for a drink later, just so you can stare at him some more."  
  
Brentali laughed and shook his head. "John, you're a cruel, cruel man."  
  
"That's why they love me," Doggett said, smirking.  
  
Both shifted their attention as Byers returned, now clad in his old blue suit. He stopped and stood near Doggett to one side of the couch. Doggett and Brentali stood, and Doggett placed a hand on Byers' shoulder, emphasizing his possession to Brentali. "So when do we come by to pick it up?" Doggett asked.  
  
"Tomorrow afternoon, after 3 p.m.," Brentali said. "We'll do the final fitting then. Shirt, tie, socks and all the other necessary accoutrements will be waiting with it." The two shook hands. "Good to see you again, John. I look forward to seeing you again soon."  
  
Doggett nodded. "Soon enough." He looked to Byers. "Let's go get you some shoes to go with that thing," he said, squeezing Byers' shoulder.  
  
CAFE WONG FU'S  
NOON  
  
Doggett brought Byers to a Chinese place, and they sat in a secluded booth near the back. The clientele was largely Asian, which bode well for the food. With a quiet sigh, Byers settled into the padded bench seat and let himself relax. Doggett slid in next to him where they could both watch the door. The waiter brought tea and menus.  
  
Byers looked at Doggett. Doggett gazed back.  
  
"You can pour for us," he said.   
  
Byers righted the tiny, thick ceramic cups and poured the oolong, setting Doggett's cup before him gently. He paused, waiting for Doggett to drink first. Doggett looked through the menu for several minutes before he picked up the cup. Sipping, he nodded. Byers took his own cup and sipped, then sighed happily.   
  
"What do you want?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers looked through the menu. Most of the items looked good. He thought for a few moments. "Ginger beef, I think."  
  
Doggett nodded. The waiter returned, and Doggett ordered, getting crispy duck for himself. Once they were alone again, he looked over at Byers.  
  
"Sergio wanted you bad," he said.  
  
"I was getting that impression," Byers said quietly.  
  
"Offered to trade me a Marine for you." There was enthusiasm in Doggett's voice.  
  
Byers blinked. "What? You're kidding, aren't you?"  
  
"I never kid about that kinda deal, Johnny." Doggett smiled slightly, trying not to laugh.  
  
"Well, you said no, right?"  
  
Doggett didn't reply.   
  
Byers' eyes got bigger with the lengthening silence. "Right?" he asked again, anxious. He leaned toward Doggett.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "Well, maybe I'd'a considered it if he offered me two of 'em."  
  
Byers snorted. "Jack!"  
  
"You don't honestly believe I'd swap you over to some guy you don't know, do ya?"  
  
Byers closed his eyes and took a breath. "I hope you wouldn't offer to trade me to anyone. This isn't that kind of arrangement." He looked back at Doggett, who was still chuckling silently.  
  
"I know. But I had you goin', didn't I?" One hand under the table, he traced his fingers along the edge of Byers' kneecap.  
  
"Feels good," Byers whispered.  
  
Doggett's fingers strayed higher, moving up Byers' thigh. "I bet this'll feel even better."  
  
Byers sat still, feeling the fingers steal higher along the inside of his thigh. They didn't stop in a safe place though, but continued until they found his dick lying soft in his lap. It didn't stay that way under Doggett's hand. He had to work to control his breathing.  
  
"What do you--" Byers whispered sharply.  
  
Doggett silenced him with a glance. He sat sipping tea as though nothing was happening. With one last tip, he drained his cup, then sat it on the table.  
  
"Pour me another cup of tea."  
  
"Yes, Sir." Byers picked up the pot, but it was a struggle to keep his hands steady with Doggett's fingers caressing and teasing him. He managed not to spill the hot liquid, then set the pot down quickly.  
  
Doggett was tracing agonizingly slow lines up and down the length of his hardening cock. He didn't remove his hand from Byers' lap when the waiter came to set the dishes of food down, but thanked the man and picked up a pair of chopsticks with his free hand and began his meal, dipping the duck tidbits delicately into the plum sauce.  
  
Byers squirmed.  
  
"You gonna eat?" His hand moved up Byers' shaft and pinched the head with a firm but gentle squeeze, then slid back down toward his balls. Byers suppressed a whimper. "You really should. You're gonna need your strength for later."  
  
Byers tried to collect himself, but it wasn't working. He picked up his chopsticks and started on his ginger beef, but after getting a couple of slices to his mouth, his concentration was so shot that a piece of onion went sailing across the booth to fall into the seat opposite them. He watched in dismay as it hit with a wet 'thup.'  
  
Doggett frowned. "Really, Johnny, you're being very sloppy." He slid Byers' zipper down. "Just relax and quit throwin' your food around." He picked up his tea and sipped again, finishing his second small cup. "Another cup?" He held the cup out to Byers, and slid his fingers inside the open fly of his pants.  
  
Byers managed to pour without mishap, but wasn't able to control the chopsticks enough to get another bite. Doggett's fingers were sliding along bare, hot flesh now, and he braced his back against the seat, head leaning into the cushioning, hands gripping the edge of the seat. He spread his legs to allow Doggett easier access to him, hating himself for loving it so much.  
  
"You okay, Johnny?" Doggett looked him the eyes, a smile on his face. "Here, let me help you out a little." He picked up some of the ginger beef and held it to Byers' lips.   
  
Byers gratefully opened his mouth and let Doggett feed him, his Master's other hand now stroking him softly. "Thank you, Sir," he said, quiet and subdued. The beef was tender and perfectly done, as much a delight to his tongue as Doggett's hand was to his cock.  
  
Byers watched Doggett smile he watched him. He could feel his face softening into pleasure as he became more and more aroused. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, sharing the heat and intimacy of Doggett's tease. Byers bit his lower lip, closing his eyes for a moment, then turning his face to look back at Doggett. He could see the pleasure on Doggett's face as he held the hot silk of Byers' erection in his hand. Byers tried to control the sound of his deepening breath and the tiny, helpless movements of his hips, but couldn't. He could see that Doggett was aroused as well, but the man seemed in perfect control of himself. On one level, he envied that control while on another, deeper level, he loved the loss of his own.  
  
Byers took a deep breath, trying to focus, but the hand caressing his shaft dominated his attention. Doggett continued to feed him and stroke him languidly, he didn't know how long, until he was close to orgasm. He had no idea if he could keep himself still, keep from calling out if he came, but mercifully -- or perhaps not so mercifully -- Doggett's hand left his cock and zipped his pants up. One soft stroke through the cloth, and Doggett had both hands on the table again.  
  
Byers was painfully hard, his balls tight and aching, not sure whether he should be miserably frustrated or eternally grateful for not being compelled to have a public orgasm in a crowded restaurant at lunch. He decided on a combination of both, taking slow, deep breaths to quell the pressure in his body. Doggett offered him another bite of the delicately spiced beef, and he took it gratefully.  
  
It wasn't long before he was able to manage his own chopsticks again, and he finished his lunch quickly. They lingered over tea and iced lychee for dessert.  
  
"So what are we doing this afternoon," Byers asked.  
  
"I thought we'd go by the hotel so we can get changed into something a little less stiff than these suits, and we could go take a walk in Central Park. Maybe I'll take you through the Guggenheim. Unless you'd like The Cloisters more."  
  
Byers smiled. "Tough choice. But you know I'm more comfortable in a suit than anything else, Jack."  
  
"Yeah, but taking a walk in the park in a suit? In the summer? Come on, Johnny, loosen up a little. I know what I want you to wear anyway."  
  
"Oh. In that case, I think I can be flexible." Byers nibbled a lychee, playing with the fleshy texture of the fruit in his mouth.   
  
Doggett grinned. "I figured." He watched Byers thoughtfully.  
  
Byers took a lychee on the end of his spoon and began licking and sucking it in a terribly suggestive way. If Doggett could tease him, he could certainly return the favor.   
  
Byers watched Doggett watching his tongue moving on the rounded shape. Doggett's eyes widened, and Byers felt a surge of pleasure at being able to tweak the man just a bit.  
  
"If you don't stop doin' that right now, Johnny," Doggett growled, "I won't be responsible when your pants are around your ankles and you're leaned over this table with my dick in your ass." There was a definite hint in his Master's tone that suggested he had pushed things almost too far.  
  
Byers sucked the lychee into his mouth and swallowed it quickly. That wasn't quite the kind of scene he wanted to participate in. Tables, yes. Pants around his ankles, even better. But not during lunch rush at a Chinese restaurant. "Sorry, Sir." He tried to put enough contrition into his voice, but wasn't sure he was succeeding. He smothered a chuckle, squelching the smile that almost curved his lips.  
  
Doggett snorted. "Yeah, I bet. You're just beggin' to get your ass spanked when we get back to the hotel, aren't you?"  
  
"No, Sir. Not at all." He shook his head emphatically. It was a lie, and both of them knew it.  
  
Doggett glowered at Byers, obviously thinking evil thoughts. The waiter brought them the check. Taking the small leather folder, Doggett handed it to Byers. "You're handling this one."  
  
Byers blinked. Doggett had assured him that the weekend would be paid for. He hadn't brought much in cash, and there was less than fifty dollars in his checking account. There was never much more than that, really; he and the guys were almost always broke. He took the bill in his hand and looked. Nearly twenty five dollars. The duck had been pricey. He took a deep breath. With a suitable tip, that would be all but about three dollars of what he had on him. This wasn't quite the result he'd hoped for from his tease, but it was ample proof that he'd blown his advantage. He'd have to be far more subtle the next time he tried playing games with his Master. Silently, he pulled his wallet from his pocket and paid the waiter. He hoped this would be the only punishment he received.  
  
"Keep the change," Doggett told the man. Byers looked up at him and swallowed, his face wrinkled with anxiety. "Come on," Doggett said, "we're going back to the hotel." He rose, and Byers got up and followed him.  
  
Doggett hailed a cab and they returned to the hotel in silence. Neither of them was going to discuss the situation where anyone would overhear. It was a mercy, as far as Byers was concerned. He wondered what would happen when they arrived.  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
EARLY AFTERNOON  
  
The elevator carried them to the 12th floor, and Doggett led him to their room. It was a large, comfortable suite with a king sized bed, a dining area and living space, and a lavishly appointed bathroom. They had already unpacked their suitcases into the dresser and closet provided.  
  
Doggett pointed to the couch. "Sit down," he ordered.  
  
Byers obeyed, seating himself quickly and fixing his attention on the man who stood over him.  
  
"You know why I had to do that." Doggett crossed his arms as he looked down at his contrite companion.  
  
"Yes, Sir." Byers nodded.  
  
"You tell me why I did that."  
  
"I was out of line, Sir. I challenged your authority."  
  
Doggett nodded. "And you understand the seriousness of that challenge, and why I couldn't let it pass."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Byers said, his voice quiet. There was no hint of his earlier tease. The nature of the punishment had been something of a shock, but it hadn't been outside their negotiated boundaries.  
  
"You got any cash left after that stunt?"  
  
Byers looked down at the floor. "No, Sir."  
  
"Then don't make me do that again. Next time, you'll be washin' dishes."  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
Doggett pulled out his wallet and held out a fifty to Byers. "This is for emergencies. You never know what might happen, and I won't have you here broke if you need to get a cab or somethin' and I'm not with you."  
  
"Thank you, Sir." Byers reached out gingerly and accepted the bill. He put it in his wallet and waited.  
  
"C'mere." Doggett said, warmth returning to his voice as he motioned for Byers to rise and approach him.  
  
Byers got to his feet, wondering what would come next. He took a step toward Doggett. His Master's hands slid around his waist, surprisingly gentle under the circumstances. Doggett drew him into a silken embrace, then lowered his lips to Byers' mouth. He responded gratefully, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around the man's broad shoulders. The agent slid his hands down and caressed the curves of Byers' ass, bringing him close and pressing his hips into Byers' groin. Byers drew a sharp breath as Doggett's tongue opened his lips. He let the warm, wet tongue caress his own, relinquishing control completely.  
  
It was a deep, satisfying kiss.   
  
"Let's get ready to go to the park," Doggett said softly, still holding Byers close. Byers nodded, though he would far rather that they spent time together there in the room for a while first. After the way Doggett had been teasing him earlier, he wanted the body contact, wanted restraints, wanted Doggett's hands on his sides, back, and chest. He wanted slaps, caresses, arousal, and release. He wouldn't ask. He knew that it wouldn't be granted. Not yet.  
  
Doggett released him and they entered the bedroom. "Get undressed," Doggett said. He loosened his tie, and Doggett watched. "Slow, so I can enjoy it."  
  
"Yes, Sir." He drew out his motions, moving smoothly. Doggett nodded his approval as Byers unbuttoned his shirt, languid and deliberate. Byers began to warm to the idea, knowing he was being given a chance to be the tease again, but under orders this time, kept to his proper place.   
  
He took advantage of the situation, watching his Master's eyes as they moved over his body appreciatively. He revealed his skin a little at a time, sliding his fingers over himself, gratified as Doggett's pupils dilated and he began to breathe more quickly. His own breath quickened as he exposed more of himself to the man's hungry gaze, dropping his tie on the bed, opening his shirt, removing it, and slipping his t-shirt over his head with a slow, sinuous movement.  
  
"Stay still, just like that," Doggett ordered softly, as Byers' arms were extended over his head to pull the t-shirt all the way off, feet slightly apart. His face, which had been briefly covered by the t-shirt, had again been revealed, hair tousled, but his arms were still tangled in the cloth. Doggett approached him and ran his fingers delicately over Byers' flesh. "Don't move," he whispered into Byers' ear.  
  
The feel of his Master's fingers, the soft pads of their tips, and the short nails, the hiss of warm breath in his ear, raised goosebumps on his skin and he shivered. His nipples stiffened, an erection growing in his pants. He held himself motionless, accepting the powerful touch, arms restrained, crossed above his head by his twisted shirt. Doggett moved his elbows apart so that he was in an open, exposed position. Byers kept them where they had been set, and Doggett placed a soft kiss on his mouth, then trailed his lips and the tip of his tongue down Byers' throat, along his adam's apple, and down to the hollow where his throat met the top of his ribcage.  
  
Byers sighed. "Please," he breathed.  
  
Doggett's mouth moved slowly, heated breath on his skin, following the line of his clavicle to the juncture of muscles at the top of his shoulder. A kiss, a nip, and his Master's mouth moved on. Byers moaned quietly, letting go of any expectation and control.  
  
Doggett felt Byers' submission, felt the eager compliance and the keen response to his mouth's ministrations. He held Byers' waist in his hands, bracing him against the slightly awkward, unbalanced position in which he'd stopped the man's striptease. For this, no restraints were necessary. His word was bondage enough. Byers would not move until Doggett moved him, with hand or voice. He reveled in the power of it, aroused by his sub's arousal and his control over the slender man. His obedience was heady, like dark, smoky bourbon.  
  
Trailing his tongue down Byers' chest, he kissed one peaked nipple. Byers gave a shallow gasp. Doggett nipped, and Byers groaned, his head rolling back, eyes closing. He sucked the other nipple hard and Byers groaned again, louder.  
  
"You're so hot, Johnny," Doggett told him, his voice smooth as black silk. "When you obey, you get rewarded." He slid his hands down to Byers' belt and unbuckled it. "You know that's what you really want. You want me to touch you. You want me to strip you. You want me to hold you down and fuck you." He took a deep breath as he saw Byers react physically to his words; breath quickening, the pulse point at his throat throbbing, his swollen shaft rising under the cloth of his pants. He could hear Byers' heart pounding as he opened the man's fly and slid his pants and boxers down his hips, along his legs to his ankles.  
  
Released from its shelter, Byers' cock was purple, twitching with his fast pulse. Doggett inhaled, savoring the musk of his arousal, then nuzzled the soft, wiry curls of his pubic hair.   
  
"Ohhhhhhh..." The sound of need in Byers' voice shot through him. The sight and scent of the man went straight to his own shaft. He pulled Byers' shoes off one at a time, then slid off the socks, followed quickly by the pants and boxers. He tossed them aside, then stood, bracing Byers' hips with his hands as he gazed at the shy man's nudity, arms tangled above his head in his white t-shirt.   
  
He wished he'd brought a camera, but knew that there could never be photos. That kind of evidence could compromise both of them. He drank in the tone of Byers' skin in the early afternoon light through the bedroom window, the curve of his body as it arched from hips and hard shaft upward to trapped arms, the tilt of his head, the sensual open lips and closed eyes. He moved away from Byers for a moment, watching to make sure the man's balance was steady, then shed his own clothes quickly. A moment later, he had a hand on Byers' waist again, the other caressing his own hard rod.   
  
Doggett's breathing roughened as he watched Byers, listened to the soft sound of flesh on flesh as he stroked himself. Byers opened his eyes to watch, and Doggett stared at his sub's exposed body, the satiny head of his own thick cock jerking in a sharp tempo. Doggett could see that Byers wanted to move, but was restraining himself. The want in Byers' eyes was astonishing and deep.   
  
"You love this, don't you?" Doggett said. His low baritone was rough and harsh, his breath coming fast. "You love to see me jerking off, knowing you're what turns me on. Let me tell you, Johnny, you do turn me on. Seein' you like this, all hard and hot and wanting it so much, knowing you can't have it unless I give it to you, that turns me on. That gives me a rush."  
  
Doggett jerked himself faster, enjoying the look of lust and want on Byers' face. "Get on your knees," he ordered. Byers slipped to the floor, mouth open, obviously hoping to suck him. The hacker kept his tired, shaking arms above his head, and Doggett took his wrists in his empty hand, pressing them down behind Byers' neck. Byers sighed with relief as the stress in his arms was eased. He looked up at Doggett, then licked his lips and opened his mouth again, begging silently.  
  
Doggett pulled out a condom packet from the bedside drawer and contemplated it briefly, but didn't open it. He set it down on the stand. Byers still didn't trust him enough to do anything without latex, but from the glaze in the man's eyes, he'd have to be reminded of it.  
  
"No, Johnny, you don't get to suck me yet. You don't get to do anything except kneel there. Don't try to move." He stroked himself hard a few times, then squeezed, and rubbed the head of his cock on Byers' beard, leaving a thick, clear thread of pre-come along his furry chin, glistening just under his lower lip. He moaned at the feel of it, and Byers whimpered, fighting to keep still, obviously resisting with all his power the urge to lick the liquid, and Doggett's head that whispered a torment along his lip, without permission.  
  
Doggett toed Byers' knees wide apart, stroking himself hard again, and watched as the man's throbbing shaft was exposed to his full view. "You're beautiful, Johnny," he gasped, "god." Taking Byers' hair in one hand, he stroked his balls then pumped his shaft hard and fast as he slid the head of it under Byers' chin. The sensation of the soft edge of Byers' beard and the slight prickle of stubble just behind it sent him over the edge, and he shot hot come all over Byers' neck, shoulders and chest. With a shout and a shudder, he kept jerking, kept coming, and the creamy liquid spattered Byers' chest and started dripping down his abdomen.  
  
They cried out together, Doggett grunting through gritted teeth as his orgasm shook his body. Byers was moaning, desperate with desire.   
  
The sticky wet heat of his Master's come on his body, and the musky male scent of it was pushing Byers near the brink. He closed his eyes, hoping that Doggett would let him suck his cock clean, but nothing happened. He opened his eyes again, and looked up at his Master.  
  
"Sir?" he panted.  
  
"Go take a shower," Doggett said, still breathing heavily. He released Byers' hair with a caress. "You don't get to taste my come, and you don't get to make yourself come either. Just clean up and I want you right back. I'll have your clothes ready for you when you're done."  
  
Byers slumped, stifling a groan. "Yes, Sir," he said, his voice barely controlled. "Thank you, Sir." This had been much more exquisitely cruel than the tease at the restaurant. The edge was delicious, and far too close, but he wouldn't disobey the command. He had no desire to discover what other punishments Doggett might have in his arsenal for such a blatant violation.   
  
Gratefully, he pulled the t-shirt off his arms and stretched carefully, moving so he wouldn't stiffen up and ache later. He stood, still hard and agonizingly close to orgasm, and entered the bathroom. He turned on the water and adjusted the temperature, then stepped into the shower, sighing.   
  
For a few moments, he let the hard needles of water beat into his shoulders, relaxing his tight muscles. The stimulation of the falling water would have been enough to take him over the edge if he stood under it in the right place, but orders were orders, and he simply soaped himself and washed Doggett's come off his body. His erection was fading, but slowly, and he rubbed his face with the palms of his hands, letting the water pound into his hair.   
  
At least the walk in the park might take his mind off the intense teases he'd been subjected to today. He decided he was more in the mood for The Cloisters than the Guggenheim. The intricacy and jeweled complexity of medieval art housed in replicas of French monastery cloisters might be more soothing than the modern art collection of the great white spiral building.  
  
He returned to the bedroom, his hips still wrapped in the white hotel towel. Doggett had laid out clothes for him. Faded blue jeans, a polo shirt in royal blue, boxers, socks and sneakers. He never felt quite right dressed in clothes like that, though he owned them. He'd been wearing suits since he was just a kid. They felt natural, safe. These clothes always felt too informal and revealing, not just of his body, but of things within him that he preferred to guard carefully. He knew it was irrational, but he felt that clothes like these opened a sort of window into him, allowing an unintentional glimpse at something slightly too vulnerable and real. Standing by the bed, he waited for Doggett's permission to dress.  
  
Doggett was already clothed, also in faded jeans, with a dark green t-shirt. "Drop the towel and come here," he said.  
  
Byers hoped he wasn't in for another tease so soon. Not that they weren't incredibly sensual, but the frustration level was getting hard to withstand. He let the towel slide from his hips, leaving him nude, and walked over to stand before his Master.   
  
Doggett picked up a tube off the dresser and opened it. "Sunscreen," he said. "You won't be any fun if you get all burnt up." Byers looked over at the short sleeved shirt he was to wear, and extended a hand for a squirt of the cream. "Just your face. I'll do the rest," Doggett said. He put a small dab in Byers' palm, then began applying cream to the slender man's body.   
  
Byers enjoyed the feeling of the sunscreen being massaged and stroked into his skin. Doggett's hands were firm, gentle, and thorough, from the base of his beard and the back of his neck to halfway down his torso, and along his arms to the tips of his fingers. This, combined with the massage of the water in the shower, was soothing and restful. He sighed happily, smiling. It was sensual without being overtly erotic, and allowed him his submissive space without a need for Doggett to be aggressive or dominant in a showy way. In that moment it was exactly what he needed.  
  
"Don't forget your ears," Doggett said.   
  
"Yes, Sir." Byers smeared a little sunscreen on them and rubbed it in until the cream disappeared. It was apparent that he'd been forgiven for his earlier disobedience, and he was glad.  
  
Doggett examined Byers, running a hand along his skin, looking for missed spots. Not finding any, he nodded, satisfied. "You can get dressed now."   
  
He sat on the bed, watching Byers put the clothing on. The royal blue of the shirt deepened the clear blue of Byers' eyes. He wasn't especially handsome by ordinary standards, but Byers' eyes were one of his best features, and Doggett liked them. They were expressive eyes; usually thoughtful and a bit solemn, reflecting the man's nature, but he'd also seen sparks of humor and mischief in them. He found that he enjoyed seeing that in Byers.   
  
The faded jeans revealed the curves of Byers' ass, almost always hidden under the man's ever-present suit jacket. Byers' posture revealed some discomfort with the clothing, but he looked good with the shirt hugging his chest and abdomen and the jeans tracing the thin lines of his hips and legs. Normally Doggett would have found Byers a little too thin, a little too short, a little too shy -- and a lot too paranoid. He wasn't sure he understood his attraction to the hacker, which had grown since their first encounter. It wasn't just the man's reactions and responses to the game, though those would be reason enough to play with him when he was available. There was more to it than that.   
  
Maybe it was the spark of dry wit that Byers let show from time to time, or his keen intelligence. Perhaps it was those beautiful eyes, or the softness of the man's hair and beard. Then again, it might have been a simple unconscious desire for some variety. Whatever it was, he let himself enjoy it as he watched Byers finish dressing. He looked forward to their first night together.  
  
"Does it please you, Sir?" Byers asked when he had transferred his wallet from his suit pocket to the front pocket of his jeans.  
  
Doggett nodded. "Yeah. You look real good." He held out a hand to Byers. "C'mere."  
  
Byers approached, taking the proffered hand. Doggett stood and pulled Byers close, wrapping his arms around him. Byers returned the hug, and they stood for a few moments in silence, holding each other, enjoying each other's touch. With a quiet breath, Doggett released the man and stepped back.  
  
"Did you decide where you wanted to go after the park?"  
  
Byers nodded. "I'm in the mood for The Cloisters, I think."  
  
"Sounds good to me. It's okay to call me Jack for the rest of the afternoon. I think I want to walk in the park and do The Cloisters without having to keep up the game. After that, we'll see."  
  
Byers nodded. "Thanks, Jack. Anything else we need to do before we leave?"  
  
"Your shoulders okay?"  
  
"Yeah. The shower, and the massage when you put on the sunscreen took out all the knots."  
  
"Good. Let's go, then."  
  
CENTRAL PARK  
MID-AFTERNOON  
  
The park was bright in the afternoon sun. The day was hot but hadn't yet reached the full oppressiveness of New York's humid summer suffocation. A light breeze played through the trees. It was actually very good weather, and Doggett was enjoying himself immensely. Byers was wearing sunglasses, his eyes more used to indoor lighting. They looked good on him, Doggett thought. Actually, a lot of things looked good on Byers, though he doubted the younger man would believe it.  
  
"You doin' okay with the weekend so far?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers smiled. "I think your teasing is going to be the death of me," he said.  
  
Doggett laughed. "You don't look like you're anywhere near dropping dead, Johnny. Don't even try to tell me you don't like it. Not when you beg so well."  
  
Byers blushed, still smiling. "Okay, so I like it. I'm still looking forward to getting some relief tonight." He looked at Doggett as they walked. "I mean, there will be some relief tonight, won't there?"  
  
"Well, it was on my agenda at some point."  
  
"You're a hard man, Jack," Byers said, his eyes alight. He looked down at Doggett's crotch.  
  
Doggett laughed. "That's why you want it so much."  
  
"I do, I do," Byers said quietly, grinning. "You're just not giving it to me. Cock tease."  
  
"You wouldn't say that if I had you on your knees, boy."  
  
Byers snorted. "I wouldn't have to, would I? You'd be demonstrating."  
  
"Byers, anybody ever tell you you're a wise-ass?"  
  
"Frohike, constantly, though he tends to use it on Langly more often."  
  
Doggett smiled. For some reason, it seemed like the casual clothing brought out a somewhat more relaxed attitude in Byers. He seemed less guarded, perhaps a little less anxious, though it was obvious he felt somewhat uncomfortable without his suit.  
  
"Well, wise-ass, you may find yourself dressed like this a little more often. It seems to be doing you some good. It's like I can see more of what you're really like this way."  
  
Anxiety flashed in Byers' eyes, but he covered it quickly. "That's part of the reason I don't wear clothes like these very often. I don't want people to see me like this."  
  
Doggett blinked, confused. "Why not? You look good like this."  
  
"I feel... almost naked sometimes. Like people can look right through me. I don't care for it much." Byers looked away. "I feel safer in a suit. Like I can be invisible."  
  
Doggett reached out and grasped Byers' shoulder, stopping. Byers stopped with him at the touch. "Johnny, are you afraid of me?"  
  
Byers shook his head. "No more than I'm afraid of everyone else."  
  
"Do you think I'm gonna hurt you if I learn too much about you?" There was concern in his voice, his head tilted as he looked at the man. The last thing he wanted was for Byers to think he would hurt him.  
  
Byers hesitated. "Don't take this wrong, but I don't know yet. You haven't so far. But it wouldn't be the first time someone has." He sighed, the solemnity returning to his face. Doggett realized that part of what he'd been seeing in Byers' eyes every time he looked at him was a well-disguised sadness. He wondered what had caused it, what had made it such a deep part of the quiet man.  
  
"Do you actually trust anybody, John? Really trust them?"  
  
"Frohike," Byers said, "Langly. I'm learning to trust Jimmy, but he's not a duplicitous person by nature."  
  
"Not Mulder or Scully?" Doggett raised an eyebrow in surprise.  
  
Byers looked down at the path as a jogger passed them. "To some extent. They get into such dangerous situations, though, and we never know if one of them is going to come back someday and not... not be themselves anymore." He shook his head and looked back up at Doggett. "You've heard about the shapeshifters. About the clones."  
  
"That's a load of horse shit."   
  
"No," Byers said. "I've seen convincing evidence. And while I may not always be able to trust whether or not Mulder or Scully are themselves, I do believe what they say about most of their cases. And you -- those supersoldiers you talk about. Are they a load of horse shit too?" His eyes were guarded, accusatory.  
  
Doggett sighed. "I'm not sure what the hell they are." He'd lost enough sleep worrying about it.  
  
"But you don't doubt they exist."  
  
"I've seen 'em with my own eyes. Seen shit I couldn't possibly believe otherwise. I've been picked up and tossed by one of those things."  
  
Byers nodded. "And Agent Scully and Mulder have both had similar experiences with the shapeshifters and the clones, Jack. I've seen a sample of that acid green clone blood. I won't pretend to know if they're aliens or not, but I do believe they exist."  
  
Doggett nodded, sighing. "Okay, you got me there. It's just hard to believe that stuff when I haven't seen it myself."  
  
"And it's hard for me to let go of the paranoia that keeps me alive, Jack." Byers put his hand on Doggett's as it rested on his shoulder. "That's why it's hard for me to trust anyone. That's why it's hard for me to trust you, though I mean no offense."  
  
"But you still let me do this stuff to you."  
  
A wry smile bent Byers' lips. "Agent Scully trusts you. Mulder may not trust you, but he does respect you. For my purposes, their trust and respect are a high recommendation. And you told me the truth about your screening tests, about being clean. You've been honest with me about your relationship with Agent Reyes. That's a start."  
  
"Why would I lie to you?" Doggett asked. He'd known Byers would check on the things he told him. Lying would have been worse than useless, and he didn't care to lie to the men he took to bed anyway. The vulnerability inherent in the situation was too deep for lies. It needed trust, or at least the potential for it.  
  
Byers just looked at him.  
  
"Yeah. Right. Too many guys do."  
  
"Besides," Byers said, "that night, I knew the guys were going to be home in a few hours, and that you needed the information they were bringing. The likelihood of you hurting me under those circumstances was very low."  
  
Doggett snorted at Byers' blatant cynicism. "So, after all our talking about this, why are you here if you don't trust me?"  
  
Byers blushed, turning his face away. "Because I want to trust you. Because I enjoyed what we had and what you did to me, and I want more of it. Because you showed me you had fairly clear boundaries, and through our later talks, I saw that you could respect mine. Because sometimes I need someone -- just like you do -- and you're the closest thing I have right now to someone I can trust." He chuckled and grinned, looking back up at Doggett. "And besides, you offered me this all expenses paid trip to New York. How could I say no?"  
  
Doggett grinned back at Byers, then squeezed his shoulder. "I guess that's fair. Under the circumstances, I can live with earning your trust." He looked around quickly and, not seeing anyone paying any attention to them, placed a brief but gentle kiss on Byers' neck. "At least I'll be having a good time while I do it."  
  
The two men walked again, following the path deeper into the shade of the trees.  
  
"I got a question for you, Johnny," Doggett said.  
  
Byers looked up at him. "And?"  
  
"You ever been to a club in the scene?"  
  
Byers shook his head. "No. I've never had anyone to go with, and I didn't feel like it would be a good idea to go alone. Langly goes with Skinner sometimes, though."  
  
"Would you like to? There's a private club here I go to when I'm in town. We could have dinner there, a drink or two. Maybe watch a scene if you're interested." He watched Byers carefully to gauge his response.  
  
Byers' brow wrinkled, a look of confusion on his face. "Does this involve me being on a leash or anything?"  
  
Doggett laughed. "No, not unless that's how you want to go there."  
  
Byers shook his head in a vigorous no. "I don't think so!"  
  
"Sometimes guys bring their subs dressed up like that, or in leather body harnesses, or stuff like that, but for the most part, people just dress fairly normal." Doggett smiled. "You can wear your suit if you like, since you feel most comfortable in that. But understand that you'll be seeing some stuff you're not used to seeing in public, okay?"  
  
"Are people going to touch me?"  
  
"Do you want them to?"  
  
Byers stopped, surprised by the question. "I... you know, I'm not sure. I never really thought about it." He took a few hurried steps to catch up with Doggett, who had continued walking.  
  
"Nobody will touch you without my permission," Doggett said. "So if you don't want to be touched, just tell me. I won't let anybody mess with you. You're mine, and they'll know it."  
  
"Is your friend Brentali going to be there?" Byers asked, curious.  
  
Doggett nodded. "Yeah, he asked me to come by tonight. Wanted me to bring you. Why, were you curious about him?" He watched Byers, noting the man's breathing had sped up slightly. "You want him to touch you?"  
  
The question flustered Byers. He blushed. "I think... I mean, I could see he was interested in me earlier today. You told me that he..." Byers trailed off into silence.  
  
"He wants you," Doggett agreed. "How do you feel about that? Did that turn you on?"  
  
Byers nodded silently.  
  
"You can let him touch you without it having to be anything else, you know," Doggett said. "I could make sure he would only touch you where you wanted to be touched. Nothing extreme. He wouldn't be grabbing your package, or sticking his hands under your clothes." The idea intrigued Doggett. It could make the game more fun, having another top to play off of. Watching Byers tremble under another man's touch might leave him feeling territorial, but when he finally got Byers back to their room, asserting his dominance and claiming his sub would be all that much sweeter. His voice deepened, arousal in his eyes. "But if you wanted, I could let him run his hands along your ass. You'd be safe. I'd draw the lines for him that you wanted drawn."  
  
"We could do that?" Byers asked. His eyes had widened slightly, and the catch in his breath was more noticeable. "You seemed pretty territorial this morning."  
  
"From what I could tell, that was part of what was gettin' you excited, wasn't it?"  
  
Byers lowered his eyes. "Well." He swallowed, though his mouth was dry. "Actually, yeah, it was," he admitted.  
  
"So would you like that? To go to the club tonight? Maybe let Sergio play with you a little?"  
  
The bearded man considered for a few moments. "You'll make sure it stays safe for me?" There was a twinge of skepticism in his voice.  
  
"Of course," Doggett reassured him. "That's part of my job. I won't let anybody do anything to you that you don't want."  
  
"How should I act while we're there?" Byers asked. Doggett smiled.  
  
"Like you would while we're playing," Doggett explained. "You bring me stuff if I want it, be where I want you to be, stay where I put you, come when I call you, treat me like you have been today. I might play with you if I'm in the mood for it, like earlier today. I think you'd enjoy watching a public scene or two. It doesn't actually get to fucking most of the time, but there might be nudity, and the scenes usually include bondage and discipline. Nobody interrupts a scene except the dungeon master, you don't touch anybody or anything belonging to anybody else without permission, and the other Doms can't touch you or tell you what to do unless they have my permission."  
  
Byers looked excited. Doggett could see the quickness of his pulse at his throat. Byers was flushed and looked aroused from earlier in the day, a hardness starting in his jeans. The bearded man nodded. "That seems pretty straightforward."  
  
"You? Straight?" Doggett asked, grinning broadly. "Not even in your dreams."  
  
Byers laughed. "And how would you know what I dream about?"  
  
"I know what turns you on," Doggett said, leaning into Byers' ear as they walked, his voice low and sultry. "I know how to make you come hard. And I know that everybody dreams about things that make 'em come. I also know that a woman wearing a strap-on ain't the same as having a man's hot, hard rod up your ass."  
  
"That's true, about the dreams," Byers said. Doggett watched the shiver slide down his spine. "But just remember, you don't know everything about me."  
  
Doggett grinned evilly. "Give me time, Johnny. Give me time."  
  
Byers smiled shyly, blushing hard.   
  
Doggett looked down at his bulge, smiling. "Damn, you look good in those."  
  
Byers kept walking, shifting to try to adjust himself without reaching down his pants and grabbing himself publicly, like some baseball player. Doggett chuckled, leaving the shy man to his silence while he performed his uncomfortable shimmy. He amused himself by thinking about bending Byers over a park bench and sliding into his tight ass.  
  
"Laugh while you can, monkey boy," Byers grumbled.  
  
Doggett raised an eyebrow. "Monkey boy?"  
  
Byers shifted his waistband, finally achieving some comfort. He looked at Doggett. "Oh, you don't -- sorry. I'm being a geek again. It's a 'Buckaroo Banzai' movie quote." He sighed.  
  
"Weird-assed tacky movie with John Lithgow?" Doggett asked, slightly confused.  
  
Byers blinked. "You've seen it?"  
  
"Long time ago, but I didn't remember much about it except for a buncha aliens all named John."  
  
"I wonder if this makes us both Lectroids from Planet Ten," Byers said, chuckling.  
  
Doggett snorted. "I got no idea what you just said, but I think I want the answer to be no."  
  
"Good choice," Byers said. "I'd rather be Professor Hikita anyway."  
  
"You're weird."  
  
Byers laughed. "And you just noticed?"  
  
Doggett shook his head. He decided that if he hung around with this man too much, he'd probably have to adjust to things far stranger than Mulder's theories. But then, maybe that wouldn't be such an awful thing. He was pretty sure if he'd gotten the joke, it would have been funny.  
  
They walked through the park for over an hour, stopping occasionally to sit on a bench and watch the people moving by. With time, Byers seemed to get slightly less uncomfortable in the casual clothes he wore. Doggett bought them fresh pretzels from a cart, still hot and chewy. They sat again, a flock of hopeful pigeons at their feet.  
  
Byers nibbled the pretzel, then looked over at Doggett. "How much does Agent Reyes know about what you do?" he asked.  
  
"She knows I'm with guys sometimes. I told you that."  
  
"I mean, does she know *what* you do when you're with men?"  
  
Doggett shook his head. "No. It's not something she needs to know. Just like the FBI doesn't need to know that I take men to bed with me."  
  
"Does she know about our arrangement?" Byers asked.  
  
"She knows I'm seein' somebody, but she doesn't know who. Most of the time, I don't see the same guy for very long. She doesn't ask. Never really met one I wanted to have stay with me. Not for too long, anyway." Doggett sighed. "I've tried, but most guys, they're just not the staying type."  
  
Byers nodded, looking thoughtful. A ghost of regret passed his face and vanished quickly. "But you've known Agent Reyes for a long time. Have you and she..."  
  
"Well, yeah, but that's different. We don't do anything like this. We're... I guess we're just good friends who sleep together sometimes." He shrugged, then looked away from Byers, watching the people pass by. "Ever since Luke... since the divorce... now and then, you know. We've been there for each other. She sees other guys sometimes, but nobody seems to stay with her, either. I dunno why. She's a good woman. Deserves somebody who would just be hers, you know? Sure as hell not that jerk, Follmer, though." He looked back, seeing sympathy in Byers' eyes.  
  
"I could check him out for you, if you'd like. If there's any dirt on him, I'd find it."  
  
Doggett shook his head. "Not now. Not yet, anyway. He's a jerk, but he's not messing with her career or anything. If she says he's givin' her a hard time, then yeah, I'll ask."  
  
"Okay," Byers said, nodding. He took another bite of the pretzel.  
  
Doggett watched Byers for a few moments, eating his own pretzel as he thought. After he swallowed, he asked, "Why have you been alone for so long, Johnny? A guy like you, I'd expect you'd have a partner."  
  
It was Byers' turn to sigh. "I... I guess a lot of it is that it's hard for me to meet people. I don't get out much for things other than work. I don't go out to the bars, and I'm just not public about... well... as you said, the FBI doesn't need to know you sleep with other men. I don't feel like my private life is anyone else's business. Only the guys know, really. And Skinner. And you."  
  
"You're worried about blackmail?"  
  
Byers snorted. "Some. I'm more worried about ending up involved with someone that turned out to be involved in one of the conspiracies. It's less about blackmail than about being used against my friends, or even getting killed by someone who fooled me into trusting him. The work we do, it's too important for me to take personal risks like that." The sadness in Byers' eyes deepened for a moment, then vanished behind the calm mask of his usual expression.   
  
Byers seemed lost in thought. Doggett wondered what he was thinking. Byers shook his head after a moment and looked back at Doggett. "For me, it's never really been about the usual things. The few people I've been with over the years have generally thought I was just too strange. I was married once, for about a year, back around 1993. Her name was Doreen."   
  
Byers hung his head, speaking quietly, and Doggett thought he looked like he was carrying the entire planet on his shoulders. "She thought some of the things I wanted were... too kinky. She couldn't stand the guys, and didn't like the risks I took with the paper and our investigations. Once, after a particularly rough mission, I came home pretty badly beaten up, and she threw me out. Said she was sick of my kinks and she wasn't willing to see me come home in a body bag for some 'stupid ghost chase.' I don't know. Maybe by then she was just looking for an excuse. She filed for divorce the next day. I ended up living with the guys." The slight man obviously still felt some regret.  
  
"Frohike said you had a thing for some woman named Susanne." Doggett wanted to reach out to Byers, to take him in his arms and offer him some comfort, but the place was too public. He'd have to make sure to spend time with him that night outside the game, and make sure the man knew he was wanted. Byers would never want pity from anyone, but knowing he was wanted, just as he was, might help.  
  
Byers nodded. "I did. I guess I still do. But there's no possible way it could ever have worked out for us." He took a deep breath, obviously extremely uncomfortable. He was nearly inaudible when he said, "She was killed in Las Vegas, back in '99."   
  
The pain in Byers' eyes was raw. Doggett laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know. Sounds like things have been pretty lousy for you. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."  
  
"No," Byers replied. "I need to move on. I've spent too much time clinging to the past, wishing for things that can never be."  
  
"I know how hard that can be," Doggett said, quiet. He thought again of Luke and Barbara, then sighed. "You gotta take what you can find, what comes your way. Live in that." He slid his hand down Byers' arm and took his hand. The fingers were long and slender, delicate but strong. Doggett squeezed his hand, and Byers squeezed back, then let go.  
  
"Thanks," the hacker whispered. The sadness hadn't left his voice.  
  
"Let's get off our asses and head over to The Cloisters," Doggett suggested.  
  
Byers nodded. "Sounds like a good idea."  
  
THE CLOISTERS  
FORT TRYON PARK  
LATE AFTERNOON  
  
Byers had been wandering with Doggett through the four acre museum complex for over two hours, his head spinning with the visual overload. After walking through the extensive cloister gardens, they had examined paintings, jewels, scrolls, and incanabulae. Doggett found himself fascinated by the collection of statuary and metalwork, while Byers admired the justly famous unicorn tapestries.  
  
A selection of ivory carvings had caught Byers' eye. He was quickly drawn to one particularly spectacular piece; an intricate cross of walrus ivory encased in a well lighted glass display. He tugged Doggett's sleeve and pulled him over to view the cross with him.  
  
"Look at this," Byers said, his voice excited and reverent. "I read a book about this one years ago. The Cloisters Cross, probably made at a monastery at Bury St. Edmunds in England. There was a really fascinating mystery surrounding this cross."  
  
Doggett looked at the cross, then over at Byers. "A whole book? About this thing?" He pointed at the artifact, then leaned down to examine the details through the glass. He'd been to The Cloisters a number of times before, but hadn't been particularly interested in most of the wood and ivory altar items. The gold and silver work attracted him more. It was a very finely carved piece, to be sure, but the slender, two-foot tall cross didn't really do anything for him.   
  
"Yes, it was titled 'King of the Confessors' and written by the curator who acquired the piece for the museum. It was fascinating. Lots of downright bizarre personalities among the art collectors, the dealers, and the museum curators he worked with." Byers grinned with an almost boyish enthusiasm and leaned in to study the cross closely. It showed magnificently carved biblical scenes, and was engraved with texts all over its surface. "There were questions about the provenance of the piece, the translations of its engravings, and its authenticity. Lots of cloak and dagger circumstances. Some of these inscriptions are diatribes against the Jews for killing Christ -- very nasty stuff, entirely typical of the attitudes of the Church in the 12th century. It was a fun book."  
  
"Look at this," he whispered, gesturing at the carvings. "None of this stuff was pegged on. Each section was carved as a single piece. I never thought I'd have a chance to see it in person. The walrus ivory the artist used for it is much more delicate than elephant ivory. The workmanship is amazing. Isn't it exquisitely made?"  
  
Doggett didn't answer the rhetorical question, instead watching the expression of concentration and delight on Byers' face. This was the first genuinely unguarded moment he'd ever seen in the younger man, outside the intensity of sexual release. In his interest, Byers was relaxed and happy, smiling to himself, eyes alight with fascination. His excitement brought a smile to Doggett's face as well, and he watched Byers examine the artifact for quite some time. People walked by, looking at the cross and the other items in the gallery, but Byers was almost oblivious to their presence.  
  
"Johnny, " Doggett finally said, "there's a lot of this place left to see. We should be moving along."  
  
Byers looked up, startled. "Oh, sorry. You're right, we should, shouldn't we?"  
  
"It's okay. I just want to make sure we're in time for dinner later." He grinned.  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
EARLY EVENING  
  
Byers sat on the bed, shifting nervously. "Are you sure this is going to be safe? What if..." the younger man swallowed uneasily, "what if somebody one of us knows sees us there?"   
  
Doggett shook his head and chuckled. "I already know most of the guys there, Johnny. A lot of the other guys in that place are just as concerned about being outed as either of us. If they're actually there in the club, it's because they do this too. The membership screening is pretty thorough, and it's exclusive. Members and their personal guests only. Members are responsible for their guest's behavior, so nobody brings anybody in that they don't think is gonna follow the rules, and the rules include confidentiality."  
  
"Your friend Brentali doesn't look like the sort who's worried about being outed."  
  
Nodding, Doggett said, "He doesn't care if anybody knows he's queer, never has, but he's way more careful about letting folks know he's into these kinds of games. He's as discreet as anybody else there, believe me. I've been a member for years, and never had trouble with being outed, okay?"  
  
Byers sighed and nodded, but his eyes still carried the weight of uncertainty. It was a remarkable contrast to the man who had eagerly thrown himself into appreciating the ivory carving at The Cloisters that afternoon, Doggett thought. He wished he could see Byers that way more often, relaxed and smiling. The guy had a great smile and didn't use it nearly often enough.   
  
"What would you like me to wear tonight, Sir?" Byers asked.  
  
Doggett thought for a moment. "One of your suits is fine, but the brown one doesn't do anything for you. I don't like it much. You can wear the grey one. I got a question, though."  
  
"Yes, Sir?"  
  
"You can't afford the good suits, but you always have these silk ties. What's with that?"  
  
Byers sighed. "They're the only nice things I can afford for myself. They remind me I haven't actually taken a vow of poverty." He gave Doggett a wry smile.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "Makes sense, I guess."  
  
Byers nodded and went to get the suit from his closet. Spreading it on the bed, he got undressed down to his boxers. When he reached for his undershirt, Doggett stopped him.  
  
"No undershirt tonight. Take off the boxers, Johnny, and lie down on your back." He gestured to the bed.  
  
Byers looked up, puzzled, but nodded. "Yes, Sir." He removed his boxers, lay on the bed and waited for instructions. A tingle of excitement stirred in his stomach, and his breath quickened. Perhaps his Master would have a little sympathy for the teasing he'd endured during the day, and take some pleasure in him before they left. Then again, it didn't seem too likely.  
  
Doggett took Byers' wrists and brought them up over his head, then laid them crossed together on the bed. Byers stayed as he was positioned, and Doggett's hands spread his ankles as well. "Like that, Johnny. Stay like that until I tell you you can move." The agent's light blue eyes raked over Byers' body, drinking him in.  
  
"Yes, Sir," Byers breathed, excited, waiting for the touches that must surely come next. He could feel his dick beginning to stir, and saw Doggett watching him intently. It was almost a physical touch, the way his Master looked at him.  
  
He watched Doggett's hand descend, his Master's fingers curling to caress his face. The first soft touch sent a shudder through his body.  
  
"Yes," Doggett whispered. He felt Byers' shudder, savoring its subtlety, and watched the man's shaft begin to rise slowly and hesitantly. He was so sensitive, so easily aroused, and it pleased Doggett greatly. It felt good to have someone respond so quickly, so intensely to his touch. His fingers slid down Byers' cheek, over his throat, down his chest and abdomen, into the slender man's pubic hair.  
  
Byers' body arched into the touch and he moaned, closing his eyes. His cock stiffened further, growing and getting darker. A bolt of hot desire flashed up Doggett's spine and he barely managed to keep himself from gasping. He slid his fingertips up Byers' hardening shaft, feeling the man's heat. He could feel his mouth going dry, and licked his lips. This would be sweet, and he was sure Byers would like it.  
  
Reaching to the bedside table, he opened the drawer and withdrew a small leather device. It was chill from sitting all day in the air conditioned room.   
  
Byers opened his eyes, wondering where Doggett's hand had gone.  
  
"Eyes closed," Doggett snapped, not letting Byers see what was in his fingers. The hacker shut his eyes again, sighing quietly. Doggett's empty hand went to Byers' balls and caressed them gently. They were pleasantly heavy in his hand, filling his palm. He pulled carefully, stretching the man's sac slightly.  
  
"Ahhh..." Byers moaned softly at the sensation, wanting more. It was a struggle not to move, not to take Doggett's hand, pull it to his hardness, and make him stroke it. He wanted to come so badly, and being teased yet again was an incredibly erotic torture.  
  
Doggett shook out the leather harness, and its components fell into place, black loops and tiny rings and clips arranged in a familiar pattern. He took it in both hands and began to fasten the cold leather and metal around Byers' balls, slipping one small strap between them and tightening it, then fastening a loop around the base of his cock.  
  
Byers gasped loudly at the cold touch, eyes clenched shut, his shaft gone to granite from the stimulation. He could feel the bondage device being fitted around him, pulling and separating his balls, fitting snug at the root of his member, its loops being wrapped around his length to the ridge of his head. It was exquisite, and he groaned deep at the incredible feeling. Doggett's fingers moved, and there was a small click, then the weight of what he imagined was a small lock at the base of his cock to keep the thing secured.   
  
He was so hard and so aroused at the feeling of his genitals being bound that it was all he could do to keep from coming right then. The cool sensation was rapidly giving way to his body's heat, and he knew it must be leather and metal that bound him; tight enough to be exciting and stimulating, loose enough that it wouldn't interfere with his circulation or cause any damage, even if he wore it for the duration of the evening. He'd never felt anything so good before.  
  
Byers' gasp and sudden physical response to the bondage ran through Doggett's body, electric and burning. His own rod hardened quickly, and he ran a hand along it through his pants. He needed to get dressed too, which would require him to undress first, and he decided that he would take advantage of this, teasing Byers further.  
  
He undressed swiftly, tossing his clothes in a bedside chair. He knew what he wanted to do now.  
  
"Open your eyes, Johnny," he ordered.   
  
Byers looked over at him, and his eyes widened. Doggett's strong, firm body was revealed before him, thick cock standing high and dark, his tight balls tantalizing to the sub. There was a long, thin silver chain around his neck, and a tiny key hung from it. He hoped against hope that Doggett's nudity and hardness meant that his Master would take him now, would enter him, ride him hard, give him release. His breathing was ragged, his erect member throbbing against the leather that bound it. "Sir," he whispered, then swallowed. "Please, Sir." His body shivered on the bed, but despite the depth of his temptation, he didn't change his position, keeping his arms and legs where they'd been placed.  
  
Doggett walked the few paces to the bed slowly, his eyes locked with Byers' the whole time. Byers' whole body was flush now, his excitement palpable and thick in the air. Doggett knew his sub wanted to be fucked hard, but he wouldn't give Byers that pleasure until much later that night. The bearded man would be granted his orgasm under rather more elaborate conditions.  
  
He reached out with one hand and took Byers' wrists. "Sit up," he said, pulling Byers' arms toward him.   
  
Byers obeyed silently, his eyes still fixed on Doggett's, still as a bird before the gaze of a cobra.   
  
Doggett tugged at his wrists, urging him to stand. He brought him forward a few steps. "Kneel," he said gently.  
  
Byers sank to his knees, spreading them wide as he knew Doggett liked, still watching the tall man's eyes. His chest was heaving, breath coming hard and fast, not knowing what would happen next.  
  
Doggett moved close to Byers and released his wrists. "Touch me."  
  
Byers' eyes widened. He put a tentative hand out, pausing for only a second before he ran his fingers up the inside of Doggett's thigh from his knee. He watched Doggett's face intently, looking for any sign or instruction, allowing his fingers to stray to Doggett's balls, caressing and tickling, running them through the wiry hair. He hadn't been allowed to touch Doggett like this before. The feeling was compelling, exciting.  
  
Doggett's cock twitched at Byers' soft touch. He reached down, taking Byers' head in one hand, and leaned it against his abdomen. The silky hair and beard felt good against his skin, and he shivered with pleasure. His eyes slid half closed as he watched Byers touch him. "That's good, Johnny," he whispered, "give me more." He could feel Byers smile against his skin at hearing his approval.  
  
Byers' other hand ran up the back of Doggett's leg as he listened to his Master's heartbeat sounding in his body. The man's heart was racing, and Byers closed his eyes with a contented sigh, allowing himself to worship the body of the man he knelt before. He kissed Doggett's flat stomach gently, then ran the tip of his tongue from pubic bone to navel. One hand found Doggett's shaft and began stroking, slow and tight, while the other caressed the hard, defined curve of Doggett's ass. His Master moaned, pleased, and stroked his hair with trembling hands. Byers tightened his grip on the thick, hot dick, pumping more enthusiastically, and he squeezed Doggett's ass cheek.   
  
Doggett's fingers tightened and fisted in Byers' hair. Taking a condom from the bedside stand, he ripped the packet open with his teeth and handed the condom to Byers. "Suck me," he growled, pushing Byers' face to his swollen, leaking rod.  
  
Byers rolled the condom on with his mouth, then fell on him, starving, sucking hard and deep, holding both of Doggett's cheeks in his hands and kneading them, pulling him closer so he could suck more deeply. The feel of his Master's hot, thick flesh in his mouth and the scent of his arousal drove Byers to a frenzy after all the denial he'd suffered during the day. He felt the leather around his cock and balls holding him securely, and the sensation pushed him close, so close.  
  
He growled as he sucked, and Doggett groaned loud, then pulled Byers back.  
  
"Enough," Doggett said, his voice heavy and low.  
  
Byers looked up in disbelief. "But --"  
  
"No complaints!" Doggett barked. He pulled Byers to his feet, hands still wrapped in the man's short hair. Byers whimpered and stood quickly. Doggett pulled him to his body and kissed him fiercely, then released him and stepped back. "Get dressed," he said.  
  
Byers was gasping from the kiss, shocked by the sudden end of their play. He could barely catch his breath to reply, "Yes, Sir."  
  
Doggett regretted having to cut things short, but he'd been about to come, and that wasn't part of his pre-dinner plans. He didn't want to wear himself out before he was ready to take Byers to bed for the night. He shared his sub's frustration, but would not let him see it. He discarded the condom and dressed quickly, then watched Byers finish dressing. There was a feral edge of lust in Byers' eyes, and he knew that their night at the club would be much more fun than he'd first thought. He couldn't wait.  
  
PRIVATE CLUB  
20TH FLOOR PENTHOUSE  
UPPER EAST SIDE  
EVENING  
  
The elevator opened into a large room in what had been listed as a private apartment in the building's directory. This was, however, no ordinary apartment. The club was spacious, appointed in dark colors, and the west wall was a huge picture window overlooking the city and central park. It was still light enough out to appreciate the view. The air was filled with the scent of food, and there was dance music playing.   
  
Byers stepped in, followed closely by Doggett. His eyes widened as he looked around. The place was crowded with men. Some were in street clothes. Some wore full leathers, while others wore nothing but body harnesses, chains, and collars. Many were multiply pierced or tattooed, or both. A few were cross-dressed in black lace and leather bodices, impossibly tall spike heeled boots on their feet. Several wore matching bright red leather armbands across their left biceps.  
  
The men weren't what Byers expected. In his rare ventures into the gay scene, he'd usually found himself surrounded by young hard-bodies; men who looked like they spent every free moment at the gym. Most had been as vain as they were brainless. It had always left Byers feeling ignored and unwanted because of his slenderness and his plain appearance. In his heart, he'd often wondered if a stupid lover would be better than none at all, but he'd always driven the thought away, knowing he didn't fit the desired ideal.  
  
This club seemed as different from that scene as ocean and desert. There were men of every age, every size and body type. Most were Caucasian, though there were a good number of Asians, and a few black and Hispanic men as well. Even the casually dressed men were well appointed; much better attired than Byers' usual crowd. Yet again, he felt out of place. The very air of the place was intimidating, radiating wealth, or power, or both.  
  
Some men were kissing each other, or openly caressing -- even groping -- each other. Some sat calmly at the feet of men that Byers assumed were their Masters. One tubby older white man wore nothing but a collar and a leash, lying curled at the feet of a big, immaculately dressed black man who sat in an equally large leather easy chair as he conversed with another man. Byers stared, astonished, around the room, but his attention was brought up short at the sound of a flogger striking flesh, and a following moan.   
  
His head pivoted, and he focused on the dias across the room from him. Against the wall, a St. Andrews cross held a beautiful, buff young man; he was nude but for a leather collar, and bound hand and foot, facing into the room. His waist was secured to the center of the structure with a black leather strap, and his cock and balls were bound in a device similar to the one Byers wore, but much more elaborate and heavier. Weights hung from it, stretching the man's balls. His chest and thighs were striped with red marks, and his shaft was huge, hard, and visibly throbbing. Two men held floggers, each taking turns teasing, touching, and striking the bound man before them. Byers' body responded viscerally to the sight, the leather binding his cock reminding him of how close he was to such a position himself. His breath caught.  
  
Doggett's hand fell on his shoulder and he startled. "You like that, don't you," Doggett said. It wasn't a question.  
  
Byers blushed, not taking his eyes from the scene.  
  
"It's okay," Doggett said. "It's safe here. This is why guys like us come here, Johnny. For things we need. For things we can't get anywhere else." Doggett ran his other hand down Byers' chest to his waist, soft and slow. "We come to watch," he said quietly, his lips brushing Byers' ear, his fingers brushing Byers' bound shaft, "and to play."  
  
Byers shivered, and Doggett urged him gently forward into the room. He could barely tear his eyes from the scene on the dias as he stepped forward. The man's yelps and deep, primal moans caught in Byers' gut, compelling and fascinating him. He wished he was alone with Doggett, that he was bound on the cross, that Doggett was striking him, giving him that rich mix of pain and pleasure. His desire -- his lust for it -- frightened him as much as it excited him. He felt as though the temperature in the room had just shot up ten degrees.  
  
"You really are gettin' turned on," Doggett said, pleased. Byers turned and saw the smile on Doggett's face. It was a dark, predatory smile, his Master's eyes hooded and burning. "Maybe we can do something about that later," he said, "after dinner."  
  
Byers' heart skipped a beat and he swallowed, nodding. "Please, Sir," he said, barely audible over the sounds of the room.  
  
Doggett guided him through the open space and around the corner to the left, where the music was loudest. There were tables and a bar here, with meals being served. Over in the corner near the massive picture window was a sizeable dance floor. There was no band, but there were men dancing together, bodies tangling in the dim light behind the area's drawn curtains.  
  
Doggett chose a table and Byers held the chair for him. "Johnny," he said, "get me a shot of Tullamore Dew, 40 year, straight up. Get something for yourself too, then come sit with me."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Byers nodded. He went to the bar, requesting the whiskey and ordering a gin and tonic for himself. Hurrying back to Doggett's table, he set his Master's drink carefully before him, resting on a small napkin.   
  
Doggett nodded and motioned to the chair across the small table for Byers to sit. A moment later, a waiter appeared, attired in leather chaps, a leather thong, and a skin-tight stretch tank top. There was a bright red leather armband fastened around his left bicep. He handed a menu to Doggett as Byers looked him up and down appreciatively.  
  
"Welcome back, Sarge," he said cheerfully. "It's good to see you again."  
  
Doggett grinned up at the man. "Bill -- still working here, I see?"  
  
"Can't beat the atmosphere and the fringe benefits, Sir," Bill said with a wink.  
  
"Yeah, only the subs." Doggett chuckled and picked up the menu to see what was available. "What's on special tonight?"  
  
Bill bowed slightly, the long blond tail of hair moving on his back. "We have fresh rainbow trout from the Catskills tonight, with a lemon and garlic butter sauce, that's just a delight. It's accompanied by fresh garden vegetables. New York steak with baked russet potato and Chesapeake Bay steamers is the other special this evening. Soup of the day is tomato basil."  
  
Doggett looked over at Byers. "Two of the steaks," he said. Byers smiled.  
  
The order was finished quickly and efficiently, and Bill smiled warmly at Byers then moved, smooth and elegant, past the bar into the kitchen.  
  
"The red armband," Doggett said, "is how you tell the club personnel from the members. The Dungeon Masters wear one on both arms. Their word's law in here. Remember that."  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
Doggett had deliberately seated them so that they could both look off to the side to watch the scene that had so fascinated Byers. He watched as Byers stared openly at the three men on the dias. Each of the blows from the flogger drew a sharp, quiet inhalation from the bearded man, his eyes never leaving the scene. The bound sub's moans were making Byers squirm in his seat, and Doggett could almost hear him wishing he were on that cross.   
  
The scene probably wouldn't go on much longer, as it was apparent the triad had been at it for some time before they'd arrived. One of the men was busy stroking and teasing the bound young man's rod as the other slowly drew the straps of the flogger across his chest. The actual blows were widely spaced, but the light, sensual touch of the leather and the ministration of the other man's hands had driven the sub on the cross into an ecstatic trance. Doggett knew it would only be a few minutes before the sub was released from the cross, then taken upstairs to one of the private rooms to be fucked by his Master and the other man.   
  
Their salads arrived as the sub was being released. Byers barely noticed, still engrossed in watching the three men.  
  
Doggett leaned across the small table toward his sub. "You want that, don't you, Johnny."  
  
Byers startled and looked back at Doggett, an almost guilty expression on his face. He swallowed and took a deep breath.  
  
"You want to be up there on that thing, don't you," Doggett said again.  
  
Byers nodded, then shook his head vigorously, his voice nervous and uneasy. "Yes -- I mean no! No, Sir. Not here. Not... I couldn't bear to have anyone watch, Sir. Only you. Only if it was just you."  
  
Doggett smiled softly at Byers' awkwardness. He understood his sub's fears, knew that it would be a long time, if ever, before the shy man would be ready to be displayed like that. "It's okay, Johnny. I didn't mean here, and I certainly didn't mean tonight. But it's good to know what you like, what some of your fantasies are." He reached out and placed a hand over Byers' trembling hand.   
  
Byers closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to force himself to calmness. He'd never been in a situation like this before in his life. The leather bindings around his cock were tight and stimulating. They had been causing a feedback loop that was impossible to ignore since Doggett had placed them on him; his arousal made him more aware of the bindings, and the bindings kept him intensely aroused. It was a disorienting distraction he found himself loving. Dinner had barely started, and already he wanted to be back in the hotel room with his Master, bound and helpless before him, his back and chest and ass covered with stinging, stimulating stripes; legs open, body vulnerable for the taking. He craved Doggett's hands on him, Doggett's mouth on his throat, his Master's deepest penetration.  
  
Doggett reached out and touched Byers' face. The slender man's half closed eyes had glazed over and he was obviously lost in a deeply erotic fantasy. His mouth was slightly open and panting, and he was flushed with desire. It was beautiful to see, but dinner was more on Doggett's mind at the moment than sex. This would be a long evening of waiting and desire for both of them, but he was sure the end result would be well worth it.  
  
"Come back, Johnny," Doggett said. "You need to eat."  
  
Byers blinked, then focused again. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."  
  
"You didn't do anything wrong. Just stay with me for a while and eat your dinner, okay? I promise you'll get what you need when we get back to the hotel tonight."  
  
Byers smiled and sighed, finally relaxing in his chair. Given this promise, he felt he could endure anything while he waited. "Thank you, Sir."  
  
Doggett gave him a wicked grin. "Oh, don't thank me yet. The evening's just beginning."  
  
Dinner was consumed with great pleasure. Without the scene on the dias to distract him, Byers was able to pay attention to his meal, and his Master. The steak and steamers were delicious and filling. He hadn't had a steak in ages, and his delight in the meal was immense.  
  
After the meal, Doggett stood. "Come with me," he said, and led Byers to the restroom on the other side of the bar.   
  
Inside, Doggett leaned Byers back against one of the sinks. He reached for Byers' fly.  
  
"Here?" Byers asked, startled.  
  
"We have to take the harness off you for about ten minutes. It's been almost two hours now and if we leave 'em on too long, they might cause some problems with restricted circulation. Just think of it as part of the game." Doggett pulled down Byers' zipper and slipped the man's hard dick and balls out.  
  
The touch left Byers gasping. "What if... what if somebody sees this?"  
  
Doggett leaned down, pulling the chain with the key from under his shirt. "Then they see it. It's a hell of a lot tamer than the stuff they see in here most nights." He opened the lock and unbound Byers' swollen flesh.  
  
The loosening of the leather sent a pulse of sharp, dense sensation through Byers' cock and balls, and he closed his eyes and leaned his shoulders and head back against the mirror, moaning deeply, his hands gripping the edge of the sink hard. Doggett caressed him, working his erection to ensure that his sub's circulation was fine, and his equipment was still in good shape.  
  
Byers was panting hard, unable to focus on anything but the intense pleasure he felt under Doggett's hands. The next thing he knew, the leather was fastened around him again, and his cock and balls were once again bound, locked, and tucked back into his pants. With the sensual pressure surrounding him again, he sighed and groaned.  
  
Once he could get his breath back, he said, "That was ten minutes?"  
  
Doggett laughed. "Yeah, and eight guys have been in and out of here in that time. Most of 'em didn't even bother to look." That wasn't entirely true. Two men had stopped to watch for a few minutes before slipping into one of the stalls to suck each other off, but Byers didn't need to know that. "Come on. Let's go see what's going on out on the main floor now."  
  
The two men walked back out, skirting the dance floor, narrowly avoiding a dancer too close to the edge. Doggett found a seat near the dias, where a demonstration of creating rope body harnesses was taking place. He sat, then patted the arm of the large, plush leather chair. "Sit with me," he told Byers.  
  
Byers sat on the arm of the chair, and Doggett's arm slid around his waist. It was warm and comfortable, and Doggett rested his hand on Byers' thigh. Byers looked down at his Master for a moment, but Doggett's attention was on the demonstration, so he leaned against the back of the chair, draping his arm around Doggett's shoulders, and began to watch as well.  
  
The demo involved two heavyset men. One stood in the center of the dias, wearing only a pair of leather shorts, and the other wrapped the model in rope as he explained the techniques, the twists, and the knots being used. Several men had gathered on the dias to get a closer look at the process. Byers didn't find it as stimulating as the scene during dinner, but he thought the harness itself looked like it would feel good around his body. He wondered if Doggett had any experience with them.  
  
As they watched, Doggett's hand slid down Byers' leg to the inside of his thigh, caressing slowly and gently. It felt good. Byers looked around quickly and didn't see anyone paying attention to them, so he opened his legs slightly to allow Doggett's hand closer to his crotch. Surrounded by such goings on, he felt as though Doggett's fingers tracing the shape of his balls -- while sensual and in his mind still forbidden in so public a place -- was almost unnoticeably mundane.  
  
When a young, muscular, half dressed man stepped up to the chair and saluted Doggett, Byers startled and snapped his legs shut.  
  
"Sir," the crew-cut young man said. He looked at Doggett with a smile, then passed his eyes over Byers with a look of pure scorn. A knot formed in Byers' stomach.  
  
"What?" Doggett asked, annoyed. The look hadn't been lost on him.   
  
The man was dressed in camo pants and combat boots, with dogtags on a chain around his neck. He looked hard and buff, and his shoulder was tattooed with the globe and anchor of the Marine Corps. "Sir! The Maestro requests the honor of your presence, Sergeant, Sir. And," the man looked at Byers disdainfully, "he wants you to bring your pussy boy with you." His voice dripped with contempt. Several men turned to look, and there was suddenly an air of tension in their corner of the room.  
  
Doggett got to his feet, eyes blazing ice blue. He took Byers' wrist. "Come on," he said, then turned to the Marine. "Take me to him." Doggett's voice was low and dangerous, and Byers didn't like the sound of it. He could feel people's eyes following them as they moved. The sensation left him feeling cold and anxious.  
  
The Marine turned and led them across the room to a seat near the door. Sergio Brentali sat in a comfortable recliner. "Your guests, Maestro," the young Marine said as they approached.  
  
Brentali saw the anger in Doggett's face. "Is something wrong, John?"  
  
"I seriously doubt that you gave this jackass instructions for me to bring my 'pussy boy' to see you," Doggett spat.  
  
Brentali's eyes widened. He turned to the Marine. The young man went pale.  
  
"No," Brentali said, horrified. "I absolutely did not."  
  
"I take it this sorry excuse for a pile of dog shit isn't one of yours, even though you brought him. I know you train 'em way better than that. Your permission?" Doggett glared at the Marine, who had started leaning back away from him.  
  
Brentali nodded. "He's yours," he said. "Do as you will with him within the club's rules. I borrowed him from Tracey for the evening. He looked far more your usual preference than your guest, and I thought he might amuse you. I see I was sadly mistaken."  
  
Doggett turned and fixed his attention on the man, who shrank back. Sudden realization of the magnitude of his mistake glimmered in the Marine's brown eyes.   
  
"Stand at attention!" Doggett bellowed. He generally didn't go for humiliation games, but the circumstances warranted a reaction that would guarantee the young man never repeated the mistake.   
  
Aside from the dance music, the room went silent. The Marine snapped to attention, a look of pure terror on his face.  
  
Byers suppressed a cringe at the shift of focus in the room. He didn't feel safe being at the center of such a brewing storm. All his alarms were going off. He wanted to hide behind the nearest large piece of furniture, but knew he had to remain silent and as dignified as possible, lest he cause further embarrassment.  
  
"You mewling little puke! How *dare* you alter the words of The Maestro's message to me?" Doggett stalked the three paces to where the man stood, and leaned into his face. "The first fucking thing you learn in basic is to follow orders!"  
  
"Yes, Sir!" the Marine said, swallowing.  
  
"What did you say?" Doggett shouted. "I can't fucking hear you!"  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!" the Marine shouted back.  
  
"Louder!" Doggett shouted.  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!" the Marine barked, louder this time.  
  
"When you carry a message, you repeat precisely what your Master tells you to say. Do you understand?"  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!"  
  
"And what was that message, you pig sucking excuse for a bottom? I want to hear the exact words The Maestro sent for me!" Doggett was warming up to the Drill Instructor role now. He hadn't played it in quite some time, and the little worm really deserved public humiliation for what he'd done.  
  
"Sir, I was instructed to invite you and your guest to meet with The Maestro!"  
  
Doggett grabbed the man's dogtags. "That was *not* what I asked you! I asked you to give me The Maestro's message, not your worthless interpretation of it. Do you understand English, boy?"  
  
Byers was trembling minutely with embarrassment, but surprised to discover that much of what he felt was actually excitement, arousal, and admiration for Doggett's handling of the situation.  
  
"Sir, yes Sir! The Maestro said to tell you, 'The Maestro requests the honor of The Sergeant's presence, and that of his guest, for a drink and private conversation, Sir!'" The Marine was sweating now.  
  
Doggett's nose was nearly in the other man's eyes as he bellowed. "And were the words 'pussy boy' anywhere in that message, ass wipe?"  
  
Byers blushed bright red, thoroughly embarrassed. He swallowed and held his ground near Doggett's side.  
  
"Sir, no Sir! They were not!"  
  
"Louder, you runny little shit!"  
  
"Sir, no Sir!" The Marine was trembling now. Doggett knew he was humiliating the arrogant little twat in front of some of the most important players in New York City, and the boy's chances of ever seeing the inside of this club again were shrinking with every word he shouted.  
  
"You're a disgrace to that seal you wear on your shoulder, boy! You haven't got the discipline God gave a fucking squid!"   
  
The Marine snapped his head back as though struck. Doggett grinned evilly, knowing that to imply the boy was worse than a sailor was about as insulting as one could get to a Marine.  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!"  
  
"What are you, you cunt?"  
  
"A disgrace to the Corps, Sir!"  
  
"And what else?" Doggett stepped forward again, closing the distance the young Marine had tried to open.  
  
The Marine looked confused.  
  
"Are you that motherfucking clueless?" Doggett screamed at him. "You are a disgrace to The Maestro, and a disgrace to whatever excuse for a Master might have attempted to train you!"  
  
The Marine was bright red now, sweat rolling down his face and torso. "Sir, yes Sir! I'm a disgrace to the Maestro, Sir, and to my Master as well!"  
  
"Who trained you?"  
  
"Master Tracey, Sir!"  
  
Doggett released the Marine's dogtags with a shove that knocked him off balance. "You *never* diss another man's sub! You *never* insult a guest at this club! And you *never* pull a stunt like that again!"  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!"  
  
"And now, you pansy assed wannabe, you're going to apologize to my sub!"  
  
The Marine's eyes went wide, as did Byers'. Doggett turned and motioned Byers forward.  
  
Hesitantly, Byers stepped up, regaining his composure.  
  
Doggett turned his attention back to the Marine. "Look at this man," he commanded. The Marine raised his head and looked at Byers.  
  
"What the hell do you think makes you better than him?" Doggett shouted. "Your job? Your workout routine? Your nonexistent dick? Your fucking lack of brains?"  
  
The Marine stood silent, shaking.  
  
"Answer me!"  
  
The Marine remained silent.  
  
"I said, answer me!" Doggett looked to Brentali. The Marine looked back and forth between them.  
  
"Sir," the Marine said, quiet and hesitant, "I... he looks like a wimp, Sir."  
  
"What did you say?" Doggett shouted. "I didn't hear you!"  
  
The Marine swallowed, then shouted, "Sir! He looks like a wimp, Sir!"  
  
Byers wished the floor would swallow him.  
  
Doggett shoved the Marine to the floor. "Get on your knees in front of him, boy!"  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!" The Marine crawled from where he'd been knocked to the ground to kneel in front of Byers.  
  
"Who told you you could have an opinion?" Doggett shouted. "If The Maestro wants you to have an opinion, he'll give you one. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!" the kneeling Marine shouted.  
  
Doggett put a hand on Byers' shoulder. "This man is a better human being than you could ever hope to be," he growled. "You should pray to God that someday you're as decent as he is. He's a fine man, and a good sub, and he knows how to behave in public, unlike you."   
  
Byers blushed, taking in the reassuring warmth of Doggett's touch. Suddenly, this wasn't quite as awful as it had been a few seconds ago. His fear and anxiety had been transmuted to pride, reveling in Doggett's defense of him and his honor. He let the feeling wash over him, gratified, though slightly embarrassed at his Master's praise.  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!" the Marine shouted again.  
  
"Apologize to him, you worthless shit."  
  
The Marine looked up at Byers. "Sir, I offer my sincerest apologies, Sir! Please, I beg you to forgive me for my insult, Sir!" The apology was offered at full volume.  
  
Doggett looked at Byers, who nodded.   
  
"And now, you're going to kiss his feet."  
  
The Marine looked up at Doggett, astonished.  
  
"His... his feet, Sir?" the Marine asked.  
  
"You dare question me at a moment like this?" Doggett bellowed.  
  
"Sir, no Sir!"   
  
"Then do it!"  
  
The Marine leaned down and quickly kissed Byers' left foot.   
  
Byers watched, fascinated. He was almost able to ignore the bondage around his cock and balls for this. The feeling of having the man kneeling before him was stimulating in a way he'd never experienced before. It felt strange, but very, very good. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be a Dom.  
  
"I want to see your tongue on his shoe!" Doggett shouted.  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!" The Marine licked Byers' left foot slowly, several times, kissing it again, then did the same to his right foot.  
  
Doggett turned to Brentali. "He's all yours, Maestro."  
  
The room burst into applause.  
  
The kneeling Marine looked up at Brentali, his eyes pleading.  
  
Brentali shook his head. "You have been exceedingly disappointing, young man. I brought you here to impress the Sergeant. I thought perhaps he might be pleased with you and choose to play with you. But you have managed to disgrace yourself and me in a very public manner because you were judgmental and unable to keep your opinion to yourself."  
  
He reached for his briefcase and opened it, pulling out a cell phone.  
  
"Please, Sir," the Marine said, "please don't call him!" He crawled to Brentali's feet and curled himself around them, his body in a posture of abject submission.  
  
He dialed, and waited a moment. "Yes -- Tracey? Sergio. I'm afraid I'll not be borrowing any of your toys anymore." He paused for a long moment.   
  
"Please, Maestro! No!" The Marine's voice cracked as he pleaded.  
  
"No, no, it won't do," Brentali continued. "No. He cannot carry the simplest message, Tracey. He utterly humiliated me in front of a dear old friend, and a room full of people. No, Tracey, I'm afraid not. No, and he won't be welcome back either."  
  
Brentali ended the call and placed his phone back into the briefcase.  
  
"Sir! Maestro! Please, Sir, let me have another chance!" The young man's face twisted and he choked back a sob. "Let me prove myself to you!"  
  
"You do not deserve another chance, boy. The only thing you have managed to prove is what kind of useless, disgraceful scum you are."  
  
The Marine clung to the cloth of Brentali's pants leg, begging loudly and groveling like a whipped dog. "Please, Maestro! Punish me! Beat me! Do anything to me, Sir! I'll do anything for another chance, Maestro!" He was weeping openly now, sniffling as his nose ran.  
  
Brentali shook his head, his eyes cold with rage. "You are not worthy of my correction, boy. It is patently obvious that you are too stupid to learn even the simplest task. Your current behavior only insults me further."  
  
"Sir!" the Marine wailed, "please! Another chance!"  
  
"Get out of my sight," Brentali snapped, his voice low and glacial. Byers shuddered hearing it, and hoped he would never feel such anger turned on him by anyone. "Take your shirt and leave. You are not welcome to return to this club. Never show your face to me again." He dropped a $20 bill in front of the Marine. "Here's your cab fare."  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!" the Marine shouted, his face etched with tears and misery. He did as he was told and was escorted into the elevator by one of the club's staff, and the crowd of men who had been watching dispersed again. The men doing the harness demonstration picked up where they'd left off.  
  
Brentali sighed and turned to Doggett and Byers. "Now that that unpleasantness has been dealt with, please accept my deepest and most sincere apologies, both of you. Would you be so kind as to join me?"  
  
Doggett nodded. "You handled it well, Sergio. I'm impressed. Gettin' in public licks at Tracey, too. That's class."  
  
"It's good to have you back, John. No one does Drill Instructor like you. The military fetishists will be following you around all night." Brentali grinned. "Have you showed your Mr. Byers around the place yet?"  
  
"Not yet. Was gonna do that after I'd let dinner settle a little."  
  
"Well, perhaps this would be the time for it," Brentali said. He motioned for them to follow. "Your composure was elegant during that demonstration," he said to Byers. "You reacted well to a stressful situation."  
  
"Thank you, Maestro," Byers said. He relaxed slightly, sighing in relief as Doggett ran a hand down his back. His restrained dick and balls were reminding him urgently of their needful agitation, and he was startled to realize how hot the whole situation had left him. Byers had been afraid of doing or saying something wrong, never having been witness to such a scene before. He was relieved that his reactions were considered appropriate. He also desperately wanted relief from the pressure in his pants.  
  
They were interrupted by three young men in desert cammies. "Sergeant," the Asian said, with a salute. "Corporal Kimitaka. My associates, Privates Fitzpatrick and Szymborzski." The two others saluted as well.  
  
Doggett looked at them and returned the young men's salutes. "What can I do for you, Corporal?"   
  
"Sir, we... well, we wondered if you might consider joining us later this evening at our barracks. We haven't been inspected in quite some time, and I'm sure that some disciplinary action may be required." Kimitaka grinned.  
  
Doggett smiled and chuckled. "I might consider it under other circumstances, Corporal, but I have other plans for the evening." He slid an arm around Byers, caressing his back, then pulling the bearded man closer to him in a possessive gesture.   
  
Byers leaned into Doggett's body, enjoying the contact, relishing Doggett's attention and the assertion of his mastery. He allowed himself a small, ever so slightly smug smile and a contented sigh.  
  
The Corporal raised an eyebrow and smiled. "The Sergeant's, ah, U.N. Advisor would be most welcome to come and... observe the proceedings if you wish. Perhaps he'd like to do a little inspecting himself?" Kimitaka winked at Byers. "We're not sure if we completely comply with U.N. weapons guidelines."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Fitzpatrick added, eyes alight. "We might even need to be searched for contraband."  
  
Szymborzski nodded eagerly.   
  
"Full body cavity searches," Fitzpatrick continued.  
  
"Absolutely, Sarge," Szymborzski said. "We could spit-shine your boots for you, too."  
  
Doggett laughed. "I see," he said. "Let me see your boots, soldier."  
  
The three straightened to attention. Doggett looked them up and down, and gave particular attention to the shine on their combat boots. They'd done a pretty good job, but he figured he could play with them a little, considering their invitation.  
  
"Fitzpatrick," he barked, "what the hell is that scuff on your ankle?"  
  
"Scuff, Sir?" The Private looked down at his boots.  
  
"Keep your head up, boy! You move when I tell you to move!" Doggett's command wasn't at anywhere near the volume he'd used to address the young Marine a few minutes prior, but it was quite apparent that it excited the young fetishist.  
  
"Sir, yes Sir!" Fitzpatrick responded.  
  
"Drop and give me ten!" Doggett snapped.  
  
Fitzpatrick nearly glowed with delight as he dropped to the floor and cheerfully counted off ten precise pushups. Byers watched, fascinated, as the others looked on with what seemed like a twinge of jealousy on their faces.  
  
At ten, Fitzpatrick rose and stood at attention beside his companions.  
  
Doggett nodded. "You goons are a sorry lot," he said with a smile. "You obviously need work on your technique. Unfortunately, I'm not assigned here."  
  
With a sharp flick of his wrist, Corporal Kimitaka flipped a business card from his pocket into his fingers. "If the Sergeant would like?"  
  
Doggett laughed. "Well, Corporal, maybe next time I'm TDY here, I can check in at your barracks and do a surprise inspection." He took the card from the man's fingers, examined it, and slid it into his wallet.  
  
"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!" Kimitaka responded. All three of the men were grinning broadly. "If the Advisor is with you at that time, he's more than welcome as well." The two Privates nodded enthusiastically.  
  
"Very well," Doggett said. "Dismissed!"  
  
The three headed for the bar, talking excitedly among themselves.  
  
"Are you serious about that?" Byers asked. It had all seemed so casual.  
  
Doggett smiled gently at Byers, pressing the man's waist to his body. "Who knows when I might end up out here alone sometime and want somebody to play with? You're not jealous are you?" Doggett placed a soft kiss on Byers' neck.  
  
Byers thought for a moment. "No, I guess not," he said. It wasn't like their relationship was that close, he thought, though it seemed they were becoming friends. There wasn't anything to be jealous of, really, as they had been together exactly once in the entire time they'd known each other, until this weekend. He had nothing to lose, so long as Doggett was careful and didn't expose himself to anything communicable.  
  
Brentali chuckled. "Would you like to see the club's facilities, Mr. Byers?"  
  
Byers turned his head toward Brentali. "Oh, uh, yes, Maestro. Thank you."  
  
"Come on, Johnny," Doggett said, guiding Byers toward a hallway. "There's a lot of stuff here. I'm sure you'll find some of it quite interesting."  
  
In the hallway on either side, Brentali showed him a conference room and a quiet conversation room. The conversation room had a small group of men talking in it, though the larger conference room was empty and darkened. Its picture window shared the view of the city and Central Park that could be seen from the main room and the bar. It was beautiful with twilight coming on.  
  
Ascending the stairs, there were several small private and semi-private rooms, some with beds, others with tile floors and tables designed to be easy to clean. Most were occupied, so he was only able to see two of them. A first aid room was here as well, unoccupied, but equipped with a note giving the name of the doctor on the premises for the night. There was a changing room, a linen and clothing check counter, a large public bathroom with showers and two sauna rooms, and two dungeons, one rather larger than the other. They were heavy with the scent of leather and sex, and to Byers' inexperienced eye, seemed quite fully equipped. Both were occupied by several couples and groups, and men watching in various states of undress or sexual activity.   
  
Byers resisted a strong urge to ask permission to stay and watch the players, even though he felt that such voyeurism on his part was not entirely appropriate. The leather binding his genitals continued to remind him of its presence. He groaned softly, almost inaudibly. From the corner of his eye, he could see Doggett smile at the sound. His Master's hand drifted softly over his ass, and he took a sharp, aroused breath.  
  
The stairs then led them up to the roof, where there was a large fenced off and finished area with hot tubs -- all of them occupied by groups of varying numbers. One contained an orgy in progress. There were also cafe tables and chairs, and lounge chairs for sunbathing, as well as a massage table, which miraculously seemed to be in use for its given purpose.  
  
Byers felt overwhelmed by the amount of raw sexuality around him. He'd never had the nerve to enter a bath house, much less a club of this nature, public or private. He wasn't sure whether he was more aroused or intimidated by the situation, though his arousal was loud and insistent.  
  
Doggett noted Byers' nervousness, and as Brentali rattled on about the club's amenities, he paused and nuzzled Byers' ear. "You doin' okay, Johnny?" he asked quietly. "Is this too much for you?" He knew the man was painfully shy, and it was quite possible that the experience was getting a bit too exotic for him.  
  
"I'm okay, I think," Byers answered. "I was actually more nervous while you were giving that guy hell downstairs. But this is... very different than what I'm used to."  
  
Doggett nodded and kissed Byers' ear. "Do you think you're still up for what we discussed this afternoon? Do you still want to try that?"  
  
Byers turned his face to Doggett's and kissed him briefly. He nodded. "Yes. Thank you for asking, Sir."  
  
"The same boundaries?" Doggett's body ached with desire for the slender man. His sub was doing so well, and he was proud of him. He only wished that Byers had more experience in the scene; he wanted to lead the younger man into the dungeon and give him a chance to be the man on the cross. Doggett did his best to ignore the heat in his own hardening rod. The image of Byers in such a position wasn't helping his composure at all.  
  
Byers nodded again. They'd talked at some length on their way back from the park about what would be acceptable in terms of touch, exposure, and how public it could be. He felt some nervousness, but was reasonably comfortable with their agreement for the evening. He also knew that he could stop things at any time if he felt they were getting out of hand, and that Doggett would respect his limits and enforce them on Brentali if the man chose to play. Considering Brentali's earlier reaction to him, however, Byers was sure he would accept. The thought sent a sensual electric shimmer through his body.  
  
"So, what do you think of our fine establishment?" Brentali asked, turning to the two men when they had once again reached the second floor. He smiled, eyes on Byers as he observed Doggett's enveloping posture, the Dom's arms wrapped around Byers from behind. Their mutual arousal was obvious. Brentali sighed.  
  
Doggett and Byers straightened up again. "It's really quite impressive, Maestro," Byers said.  
  
"John, would you and your guest join me in the quiet room downstairs for a while? We could talk, or..."  
  
Doggett nodded. "Love to, Sergio." He traced his fingers softly along Byers' throat to the collar of his shirt as he released him, knowing Brentali was watching their every move carefully for some sign of what might happen next. The move had been calculated to tease the other Dom, even as it gave pleasure to his sub. He was looking forward to the look on Brentali's face when he realized what was being offered, however limited the scope. The Italian's expression shifted from polite, casual interest to one of dark hunger in a single liquid moment.   
  
The hair on Doggett's skin rose at the man's sudden metamorphosis from host to rival for alpha status. The game was on.   
  
The quiet room was still occupied by the same group of men who had been there when their tour started, but they entered anyway. The room was large enough to accommodate everyone with enough space to respect quiet conversation. Doggett had no plans for this game to get noisy.  
  
Brentali sat in one of the large, plush chairs, and motioned for Doggett and Byers to sit.   
  
Doggett nodded, then placed a hand on Byers' shoulder. "Hands behind your back," he said quietly. Brentali's eyes widened as Doggett pulled his cuffs from his pocket and snapped them around Byers' wrists.  
  
Byers' breath caught, and his heart began beating wildly. It was really going to happen. He was excited and afraid at the same time. He wondered if he'd be able to go through with it.  
  
When Doggett sat and pulled Byers down into his lap facing Brentali, the Italian's eyes glowed with hope, and the hunger in them intensified. Doggett spread Byers' knees open over his own legs, and made the sub lean back into his chest.   
  
Byers rested his hands between Doggett's legs. His already hard cock was beginning to throb. The sigh he started turned into a quiet, needy groan.  
  
Brentali pulled his chair much closer, until he was nearly knee to knee with Doggett. "What will you do?" he asked breathlessly.  
  
"You'll see soon enough," Doggett said, a teasing grin on his face. He kissed Byers' cheek and let Byers lean his head back onto his shoulder, cradling the man gently. He ran his hands over the length of Byers' body, from the top of his shoulders down to his knees.   
  
Byers arched into Doggett's moving hands, biting his lower lip. "Uhhhhh..." The sound was soft, breathless. His entire body was tingling where he'd been caressed.  
  
Brentali's eyes were riveted on Byers. "Beautiful," he whispered. "So sensitive."  
  
Doggett could see Brentali's body react to the scene he was staging. The man was hooked.   
  
Brentali reached out with one hand, leaning forward, then pulled his hand back.  
  
"Not yet," Doggett said. "Just watch."  
  
Brentali grinned, delight on his face.  
  
Doggett's hands went to the knot on Byers' tie and began to loosen it. Byers shifted his weight slightly and settled more easily into Doggett's lap, enjoying the fingers at his throat. Unknotting the tie, Doggett let the silk fall on either side of Byers' chest and began to slowly unfasten the buttons of Byers' white shirt, kissing his neck as he loosed the top two buttons.  
  
All three of them were breathing more heavily now. Byers stretched his neck back to give Doggett more access, his mouth open in a quiet moan. The fear he felt only intensified the pleasure he experienced as he watched Brentali watching him. It gave a sharp, dangerous edge to his excitement.  
  
He could see Brentali's growing interest as Doggett slowly, torturously unbuttoned his shirt and stroked his skin as it was revealed. The Italian's fingers were clenched into the arms of his chair, flexing as he strove to keep his hands still.  
  
"Bello, bello," Brentali whispered.  
  
"Do you like what you see, Sergio?" Doggett asked.  
  
Brentali tore his eyes from Byers. "You cruel bastard," he said. "You know I do."  
  
Byers' shirt was open to the middle of his chest now. He'd never felt so naked in his life. Between Doggett's maddening hands and the smoldering intensity of Brentali's eyes looking into his soul, he might as well have been nude in the middle of Times Square.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "You'll be able to touch soon enough," he said.   
  
He ran his open palm across Byers' smooth chest, gently caressing the bearded man's hard, peaked nipples. Byers gasped and arched into his hand. Doggett's rod leaped at Byers' motion, the bound man's hands unintentionally sliding against it, and they both moaned. He continued the motion down into his sub's shirt, caressing his stomach, sliding his fingers through his shallow navel, brushing his skin softly down to the waist of Byers' pants.  
  
Quickly, he finished unbuttoning Byers' shirt, and pulled the tail out of his pants, spreading the shirt open so that Byers' chest and abdomen were fully exposed. Doggett slid the shirt and suit jacket back from Byers' shoulders, exposing them and restraining Byers' upper arms at the same time. With the shirt and jacket out of the way, both Doggett and Brentali could see how hard Byers was as his shaft twitched in his pants.  
  
Teasing Brentali was fun, but Doggett's own excitement drove him on. He wished again that Byers was a more experienced player, because he wanted badly to carry this past their negotiated limits. He slid the tips of his fingers lightly along the line of Byers' cock. The slender man shuddered, biting his lip.  
  
Despite his desires, Doggett knew he would not, could not push the issue. He had to allow Byers to build trust in him before their games could become more complicated and intense. If they continued to play together, Byers' trust would be essential. He was surprised by how much he wanted it. Bending over his sub's shoulder, he bit down gently where the man's throat met his clavicle, then sucked.  
  
Byers moaned and gasped.  
  
Brentali bit back a moan of his own. "Let me touch," he said. He was leaning close enough to catch the scent of Byers' arousal, and inhaled deeply, letting his breath out slowly.  
  
"Soon," Doggett said again.  
  
Through the building waves of sensation in his body, Byers realized the power he had at his disposal. Though he was restrained, his body spread over Doggett's and exposed to public view, he loved the feeling of having these two powerful, dominant men openly expressing their desire for him. Knowing that despite the appearance of helplessness, he could stop things at any time with the signal he'd arranged with Doggett, left him feeling a greater sense of control than he could have imagined when he fantasized about being in such a situation.  
  
"John!"  
  
Doggett could hear the desperate desire in Brentali's voice. It was time.  
  
"If you want to touch, you'll follow my rules," Doggett said, asserting his control of the scene.  
  
Brentali nodded, his eyes fixed on Byers' body. "Si, Si. What are your conditions?"  
  
"You can only touch his exposed skin, Sergio. You can only use your hands and mouth. You don't touch him with the rest of your body. You don't go exploring off the map. You stop when I tell you to stop." Doggett reached out and touched Brentali's shoulder. "Do you agree?"  
  
Brentali looked up at him, eyes greedy. "Oh, yes. Absolutely." He leaned closer to Byers and delicately touched his face with the tips of his fingers, running them along the slender man's cheekbone, then tracing the line of his beard. As his fingers moved, he ran his thumb along Byers' lips. "So soft," he whispered.  
  
Byers shivered at Brentali's touch, opening his lips slightly as Brentali's thumb ran along them. "Suck, boy," Brentali said, his voice soft but demanding. The Dom started to slide his thumb into Byers' open mouth, but Doggett pulled his wrist back.  
  
"No penetration of any kind," he said. "You let him lick if he wants to, but keep your fingers out of his mouth. And everything else." He knew Brentali was opening his game with a subtle attempt to gain control of the situation, but Doggett wasn't about to let him get away with it.  
  
Brentali sighed and shook his head, visibly disappointed that his test of the limits had been spotted so quickly. "You were always a difficult man. So possessive." He grinned. "You have such a way of sucking the fun out of everything."   
  
"I know how much you want him," Doggett said. "I don't think I'm depriving you of your fun at all. I think you're enjoying the hell out of yourself, and we both know this is better than just watching." His hands moved over Byers' body constantly as they bantered back and forth, pulling moans from the man as he squirmed in his lap. He reached down deliberately as Brentali watched, and squeezed Byers' cock, emphasizing his possession and authority.  
  
Byers groaned and thrust into Doggett's hand.  
  
Brentali slid to his knees between Byers and Doggett's legs, and leaned in, slipping his hands around Byers' waist and taking the sub's nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard and nipped, making Byers groan again, louder, then slid his tongue down the restrained man's body, leaving a trail of kisses to the waistband of his pants.  
  
Doggett licked Byers' ear and whispered, "Are you okay with this?"  
  
Byers, unable to form a verbal reply, just nodded. The two men's hands and mouths on his body were incredible but terrifying. He wanted this. He needed it. It scared the hell out of him. When Doggett had pulled Brentali back a moment before, he knew that his Master would keep to the set limits. It was a relief that allowed him to start to genuinely relax into the sensuality of the men's touches and explorations of his body. Under the fear, he knew he could so easily lose himself in this, push himself far beyond the point where he would regret his actions when he was done. It was good that his Master would keep him safe.  
  
Doggett ran his nails up Byers' sides as Brentali bit at his stomach. Byers writhed between them, gasping and whimpering.  
  
"No marks," Doggett said. "Don't leave any marks on him."  
  
"Spoilsport," Brentali muttered.  
  
Their voices were gruff with desire and the undercurrent of their rivalry. Byers' head rolled to the side as the two Doms competed to take their pleasure in him. Opening his eyes, he realized that the men who had been talking when they arrived had started watching them. One was stroking himself as he watched. Two of the others had started playing with each other.  
  
Byers' embarrassment at becoming a public spectacle only drove him further into his arousal. Strangely enough, in his mind, this closed room and these five watching men didn't really seem to qualify as "public." The space was quiet except for the soft sound of voices, and his own harsh breathing as Doggett and Brentali pushed him further and further into mindless pleasure.   
  
Doggett's attention was partly on Brentali, but the feel of Byers moving in his arms, his bound hands sliding against his rod as he squirmed and moaned, was incredibly erotic. The slender man was fiery with passion and almost feral in his response to their touches, their strokes, their wet, licking mouths. Byers radiated heat and intoxicating sensuality, a wildness growing in him that delighted Doggett. He held Byers tighter, resisting the almost overpowering urge to reach into his pants and pull out his bound dick and balls to play with.  
  
Byers was only vaguely aware of his own moans and the way his hips were bucking into Doggett's hands caressing the inside of his thighs, touching his cock and balls as he floated in a delirium of erotic sensation. The leather binding his equipment was, however, sharply on his mind as it pressed into his hard, hot flesh. It was exquisite. The more aroused he became, the tighter the harness held him. It was bringing him to that edge of intensely sexual pain that he craved. It was, in a way, a better, lighter pain than the slaps he liked to feel against his erection. He realized he could take more of this, for a longer time.  
  
"Aaaaaaaaah," he gasped, as Doggett pinched his nipples hard.   
  
He shuddered as Brentali's fingers played him like a lute, the delicate finger tips finding the most sensitive spots on his exposed flesh and pressing, scratching, and pinching. "Maestro," Byers whispered.  
  
Brentali grinned up at Doggett, then bent to kiss and suck Byers' throat, moaning in his own pleasure. Looking up, he said, "I want to see his cock. Take it out. Let me touch him."  
  
Doggett shook his head. "No," he panted, though he wanted very much to do just that.  
  
Brentali was leaning back now, caressing his own erection through his pants. After a moment, he unzipped his fly and pulled it out, stroking himself. "Let me take him. Let me fuck him in your arms, John."  
  
"No," Doggett growled. The sight of Brentali on his knees, caressing his long shaft as he watched Byers writhe in Doggett's arms was powerfully erotic. If he hadn't agreed to Byers' limits, he would have been seriously tempted to let Brentali do it. The thought of watching Brentali fuck Byers, of feeling his sub writhe and buck in his arms under Brentali's body, was seriously turning him on.  
  
"Then take him yourself and let me watch," Brentali begged. "Let me see you bury yourself in his ass. I want to watch you fuck him. Take him hard, John. You know you want him."  
  
Byers' heart was pounding wildly, listening to Brentali's incredible requests. He could hear groans from the men across the room, and one shouted, coming as he watched. For a moment, he wanted Doggett to do it -- to strip his pants from him right there and fuck him while Brentali watched. He wanted Doggett to show the man who he really belonged to, wanted Doggett to take him, to thrust into him hard and deep and make him come. Nothing came out of his mouth but senseless moans, and he was grateful for the mercy because he knew that if he could speak, he would beg his Master to fuck him.   
  
Byers also knew, deep in his gut, that if that happened, it would ruin everything. There would be no possibility of trust between them. His fantasy and the reality had to diverge here.  
  
"No!" Doggett snapped. "He's mine. You know the rules, Sergio." Doggett held Byers tightly in his arms, pressing his hips into Byers' body, wishing he could turn Byers over the arm of the chair and take him. He was well aware of the other men's fascination with the scene, and he could see by the look in Brentali's eyes that the other Dom was close to orgasm. He'd push, and make Brentali come, just because he knew he could.  
  
With a swift movement, he slid his arms around Byers' chest and lifted his body until they were both standing. Brentali's face was nearly in Byers' crotch once they were upright. Byers was gasping, his knees weak, his head lolling back on Doggett's shoulder. Brentali stroked himself harder and faster, moaning.  
  
Doggett shoved the chair he'd been sitting in back slightly with the weight of his body. "Look at him, Sergio," Doggett growled. He buried his face in Byers' neck for a moment, biting down and sucking below the line of his collar. Byers shouted and bucked against him.  
  
"Look at him. This man is mine." Doggett ran one hand down Byers' body, sliding it down to his crotch and cupping it. "His mouth is mine. His cock is mine. His ass is mine. "  
  
Byers was panting, close to the edge, but not close enough. His Master's words sank into him, sending tremors through his body. He was in ecstasy, close to physical collapse.  
  
"His body is mine," Doggett snapped. "Look how hot he is, Sergio. Look how ready he is. He'd do anything I told him right now. And I know what you like. He loves to suck cock. He'd suck your cock like an angel, Sergio, and he'd make you scream when you come, but he's mine."  
  
Brentali grunted, squeezing and beating his shaft hard, then howled as he came, kneeling in front of Doggett and Byers. Gasping, he leaned forward on one hand, still holding himself with the other. His body shook, and he sank back against his chair to rest.  
  
"Damn you, John. You really know how to mess with a man's head."  
  
Doggett stood, embracing Byers tightly in his arms, both of them trembling. "And you love it," he said, triumph in his voice.  
  
Brentali chuckled breathlessly and nodded.  
  
"God," one of the men across the room muttered, gasping.   
  
Doggett looked over at them and gave them a wry grin.  
  
"Nice, Sarge," another of the men said.  
  
Doggett nodded. Byers' knees gave out and he started to fall, but Doggett's hold on him was firm and strong. He moved Byers and settled him gently into the big leather chair they'd both occupied only moments before.  
  
Kneeling next to Byers, he cradled his face in the palm of his hand. "You gonna be okay, Johnny?"   
  
The next thing Doggett knew, Brentali was kneeling next to him, a careful hand on Byers' knee. "Is he all right?" The concern in his voice was obvious.  
  
"Fine," Byers whispered. "I'm okay." He was still breathing hard, but starting to come down from the intense sexual high. He hadn't come, but he felt drained.  
  
Doggett looked at Brentali. "I think this was just a little much for him," he said. "I should take him back to the hotel and put him to bed. He's never done anything like this before."  
  
"He hasn't?" Brentali said.  
  
"Very new to the scene," Doggett replied, caressing Byers' face and neck.   
  
"He did extraordinarily well," Brentali said. "I'm quite impressed."  
  
Doggett nodded, watching Byers carefully. "We'll see how he's doing tomorrow, when he's had some rest."  
  
"You'll let me know, won't you?"  
  
Doggett looked back at Brentali. "Yeah, Sergio. I will. Thanks."  
  
"Let me help you get him back together," Brentali said.  
  
"Okay." He handed Brentali the key to the handcuffs, then started buttoning Byers' shirt back up. He didn't do the top two buttons or put his tie back on.   
  
Brentali handed the key and cuffs to Doggett. "I'll get him some water."  
  
"Excellent idea," Doggett said. "Johnny, talk to me. How are you?"  
  
"Floating," Byers said quietly, eyes half open. "Want you..."  
  
"Later," Doggett said, smiling.  
  
One of the men who'd been watching approached. "Sarge, is there anything else either of you needs?"  
  
Doggett looked up for a moment. "Yeah, Jazz. Would you call us a cab?"  
  
"Of course." Jazz pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed.   
  
Brentali returned with a glass of water. "Here, Johnny," he said, holding it to Byers' lips.  
  
Doggett stroked Byers' arms as Brentali helped the exhausted man drink. Jazz spoke with the dispatch as they tended Byers.  
  
"Come on back to us, Johnny," Doggett said quietly.   
  
Byers gradually felt himself becoming more centered in his body. He reached for the glass, but Brentali refused to let him hold it alone. Byers wondered why, then realized that his hand was shaking. He reached out with his other hand to steady himself, and Brentali let him take the glass when he saw that Byers would be steady enough to hold it in both hands.  
  
"Talk to me, babe," Doggett said, squeezing Byers' shoulder.  
  
Brentali turned and stared at Doggett, saying nothing.   
  
"I'm feeling better," Byers said. "The fuzziness in my head is fading. I think I can focus again." He finished the water and handed the glass back to Brentali.  
  
"The cab will be here in about five minutes," Jazz said. "They'll call me when it arrives."  
  
"Thanks," Doggett said.  
  
Byers looked down at himself. "I need to tuck in my shirt."  
  
"I don't want you to try standing up just yet," Doggett said.  
  
Byers looked around at the men gathered near him, then blushed scarlet. "Oh, dear," he whispered. The realization that he'd nearly had an orgasm in front of these strangers was starting to hit. His old feelings of shame and fear were screaming at him, but curiously, he also felt good. It was as though the embarrassment of the situation was but a candle to the brilliant light of the shared pleasure he'd experienced. He felt very odd and didn't know what to think.  
  
Doggett reached out to Byers, offering the blushing man the shelter of his arms. Byers moved forward in the chair and buried himself in Doggett's embrace. "It's okay," Doggett whispered to him. "You were incredible. We'll be out of here in a few minutes, and everything will be all right."  
  
Byers nodded silently into Doggett's shoulder. The other men left them alone, going back to their conversation.   
  
"Do you need anything else?" Brentali asked. "Will you need help getting him down to the cab?"  
  
Doggett didn't look up. "No, Sergio, but thanks. I think we'll be okay. I appreciate your help."  
  
"Very well, then. I'll take my leave of you. Please, remember to call me tomorrow and let me know how he's doing."  
  
"I will," Doggett said. He turned his face to Brentali without letting go of Byers. "Thanks."  
  
A cell phone rang, and a moment later, Jazz said, "Your cab's here, Sarge."  
  
Doggett nodded. "Thanks, Jazz."  
  
He slid back from Byers slowly. "Do you think you're okay to get up?"  
  
Byers closed his eyes for a moment, trying to judge the state of his body. "Yeah."  
  
Doggett stood and offered Byers a hand. Byers hesitated for a moment, but took it and stood. He was very pleased to find that he wasn't wobbling.  
  
"Let me tuck my shirt in."  
  
Doggett nodded, and Byers stuffed the tail of his shirt back into his pants. It wasn't a very good job, but once he'd buttoned his jacket over it, he figured it was good enough for the short trip back to the hotel.  
  
Doggett slid an arm around him. "Come on. Let's blow this joint."  
  
Byers smiled. "I haven't forgotten your promise for tonight," he said.  
  
Doggett laughed. "If you're up to it."  
  
They headed for the door.  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
NIGHT  
  
Doggett flicked on the light as they entered the hotel suite. Byers had spent the ride back in the cab wrapped around him, jittering slightly and nibbling on his neck.  
  
"I'm still buzzing," Byers said.  
  
"I know. Do you want something to help you sleep?"  
  
Byers shook his head. "I'm fine, just buzzing. I want you. Besides, you promised. After everything you've done to me today, I deserve a reward." He rubbed his still-stiff shaft with a quiet groan. "This thing you put on me is amazing," he said, his voice low and seductive.  
  
Doggett sighed as he watched Byers. His hair was mussed, his jacket wrinkled, and the look on his face could make a eunuch come in his pants. "I thought you'd like it," Doggett said.  
  
"Please, Jack." Byers put his arms around Doggett and kissed him hard and deep, his hands roaming over Doggett's body.  
  
Doggett shook his head. "I'm not sure you're really up to it. I think you just think you are. You're exhausted, and you're still shaky. I don't want to take a chance on messin' you up."  
  
Byers let go of Doggett with a snort and wandered into the bedroom, turning the light on in there. Doggett turned off the light in the main room after locking the door behind them, then followed Byers. He watched as Byers sat heavily on the bed, then slid down onto his back.  
  
"Don't do this to me," Byers said, petulant. "I need a good fuck." Under other circumstances, Doggett would have been annoyed, but he knew Byers was in a much more emotionally fragile state than the younger man could understand. There would be time for explanations once they were in bed.  
  
Doggett's lips twisted into a half frown. "I'm just worried about you. I think you pushed yourself too far at the club tonight. Maybe you don't feel it now, but you will by tomorrow. And I don't want to make things any more stressful for you."  
  
Byers rolled to his side, then sat up again and began pulling his shoes off. Doggett could see he was still a little dizzy and unfocused. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe I did, but it felt... it felt good."  
  
"Were you afraid?"  
  
Byers nodded. "Yeah, but it was okay. If I listened to it all the time, I'd never do anything."  
  
Doggett sat next to Byers and slid an arm around his shoulders as the smaller man pulled off his socks. "But sometimes it's there for a reason. You know that." He had to draw some boundaries for Byers, knowing that Byers wasn't able to draw them for himself again just yet.   
  
Byers leaned into Doggett's shoulder. "Are you going to tie me up and fuck me, or should I just take this thing off?" he asked, sounding dejected. He rubbed his dick again. Looking back up at Doggett, he started unbuttoning the man's shirt.  
  
Doggett nuzzled Byers' neck, thinking about it. After a moment, he said, "I'll give you what you need, John, but I won't tie you up tonight. Only the leather you're already wearing, unless you want to take that off now too. I think anything else would be too much for you right now. Seriously."  
  
"I like this," Byers said, arousal still in his voice. "I can't believe how good it feels. You won't tie me up?"  
  
Doggett shook his head.   
  
Byers groaned. "Do you live to frustrate me or something?"  
  
"I'm just looking out for you. You're still not yourself, here, Johnny."  
  
"Please," Byers begged, his voice quiet and husky. "I want you. I need to have you in me. I've been going crazy all day. And I want to know what you think I need, Sergeant Dom, Sir."  
  
Doggett kissed him gently and Byers clung to him, taking the kiss as though it were oxygen. Doggett backed off after a moment and said, "I think maybe you do need to be fucked, but nothing rough. You need to be held. You need to rest and let yourself come down from this properly. You need to talk, too. This stuff isn't just about what's happening with your body, Johnny; a lot of it shifts things around in your head, and it can leave you really vulnerable. You're gonna be experiencing some pretty intense emotional stuff for a while. But you gotta understand that I won't hurt you, John, or let you hurt yourself. Taking care of you afterwards is part of my job too."  
  
"I'm fine, damn it. I want you to tie me up. I want you to fuck me." Byers insisted.  
  
Doggett helped Byers undress, talking gently to him. "I know where you're at right now. I've been there myself. But I don't think you've ever had anything like this happen before, so you don't understand yet."  
  
Byers shook his head, pulling his shirt and jacket off. "I'll be fine."  
  
"Of course you will, but not in the next five minutes. You're feeling like something's not quite right, and like your body's vibrating, and your head's not quite connected to it, right? Like the planet's maybe not exactly on its axis?"  
  
Byers looked at Doggett as the man unbuckled his belt. He took Doggett's hands in his own. "I... yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, I think that's where I am right now."  
  
"It's okay," Doggett reassured him. "I'm right here. I know what to do to help you, but you've... Johnny, you have to just trust me on this, okay? Can you do that? You trusted me earlier."   
  
Byers looked like he was about to burst into tears. Doggett took him in his arms and held him close. "You'll be fine. Honest. You're just gonna feel out of it and kind of confused for a while, that's all."  
  
"Trust is so damned hard," Byers mumbled. He sounded lost and afraid.  
  
"I know," Doggett said gently. "It's okay. All I ask is that you try. Will you do that?"  
  
Byers nodded and pulled himself closer to Doggett. He was shaking now, not just vibrating a little as he had been earlier, and Doggett ran a hand through his hair, kissing him softly. Doggett knew it would be a rough night.  
  
Byers took a deep breath. Doggett could see he was trying to steady himself, but it wasn't having much effect.  
  
"Let's finish getting you undressed," Doggett said. "And we should take that harness off you, too."  
  
"But it feels good," Byers said, not looking up from where his face was buried in Doggett's shoulder.  
  
"I know, but it's not something you need right now. Your body needs some rest, and that would only keep stressing it. But I promise, I'll make you feel good. Just let me take care of you."  
  
Byers sighed and nodded, then let go of Doggett to stand and slip his pants and boxers off. Doggett made Byers lie on his back, then opened the little lock that held the leather bindings together, and removed them slowly and gently. Byers' entire body shuddered as Doggett caressed his shaft and balls.  
  
"Yes," Byers whispered.  
  
Doggett stood.  
  
"Don't stop," Byers begged, whining. "Please, don't tease me again. I can't take it anymore. This is... I feel too naked without it. I really need to be tied so that I don't lose the feeling."  
  
Doggett turned down the covers of the large bed. "I'll be there again in just a sec. Let me get undressed. You get into bed. We'll talk about it in a minute."  
  
Byers rolled over and slid himself under the covers, then watched as Doggett finished undressing. After a few moments, he closed his eyes and sighed.   
  
Doggett tossed the leather harness into the bedside drawer and pulled out a small bottle of lube, a condom, and a pair of soft, padded leather wrist restraints.  
  
Byers reached out as Doggett entered the bed with him, running a hand along his side. The contact seemed to steady him. "Please, Jack, please --"  
  
"I'm right here. It's okay."  
  
Doggett slid next to Byers, holding him for a moment, just watching him. Byers opened his eyes to find Doggett's eyes locked with his.  
  
"I need this so much," Byers whispered. Doggett kissed him softly, and slid his hand down Byers' body. He showed Byers the wrist restraints. "Put them on me, please," Byers begged.  
  
Doggett slipped the leather restraints around Byers' wrists and secured them, but didn't clip them together.  
  
The slender man writhed, groaning. Doggett could tell he was still wired, still close to the edge he'd been riding most of the evening. "Why didn't you fasten them together?"  
  
"I don't want to do anything too rough with you," Doggett said. "But maybe this'll be enough for you to stay in that space you need, without being too much for you right now."  
  
Byers whined, but the leather did feel good around his wrists. Maybe it would work. It was soothing to have them on. The leather was soft, and they were fastened tight enough to feel right, but the padding protected his wrists from any damage, or from having his circulation cut off. "Fuck me, damn it." He slid his body against Doggett's, demanding and almost frantic.  
  
Doggett pressed him back down on his back, then rolled a condom onto himself. He slicked his fingers and slid one into the man in his arms. He knew it wouldn't take much to bring Byers off. Byers groaned and arched into Doggett's hand.   
  
"It's okay, it's okay," Doggett whispered to him. "Relax. Give me time to open you up so I won't hurt you."   
  
A second finger, then a third slowly joined the first as Byers moved sensually next to him. The bearded man had moved beyond the realm of speech into eloquent bodily need.  
  
Doggett slicked himself, and crawled onto Byers' body, bringing the man's knees up past his hips. Byers moaned, long and low. Doggett entered him slowly, groaning at the feeling, and Byers keened and pulled at Doggett's ass and thighs, trying to get him into his body deeper and faster. Doggett resisted Byers' urgings, and his own instincts, keeping a very slow, gentle pace as he planted himself in Byers to the root. He could feel his balls rub softly against Byers' ass.  
  
"Give it to me," Byers moaned. "Please -- harder --" His voice faded into incoherent groans as Doggett thrust into him slow but hard.  
  
"God," Doggett groaned. "Oh, god, Johnny." He hadn't realized how much he needed this as well. He held Byers tight, chest to chest, and kissed him deeply. They both moaned into each other's mouths as their slow, intensely erotic dance continued.  
  
The fullness and friction of Doggett's slow movements in and out of his body pushed Byers beyond the end of his endurance, and he came quickly, bucking into Doggett's solid body on top of him. He cried out, incoherent. The weight and heat of his Master's body and the feel of the leather around his wrists was comforting, and he clung to Doggett's solidity, the only stability in his world in that moment.  
  
Doggett kept to his slow, steady pace as Byers shuddered under him. "You feel so good," he whispered, panting, sucking Byers' ear. "God, you're good." He thrust deeper into the man beneath him, still slow but unable to resist responding to his body's own deepening need. His balls tightened, and he used all his strength to ride Byers, grunting and shouting as he came deep inside him.  
  
He held Byers for a few moments, letting his weight rest on his sub. Byers moaned again and held him tight, his entire body trembling.  
  
"Jack," Byers whispered. "My god." Doggett's weight felt good. It was as though the Dom's body was pressing him back into himself, the restraints at his wrists holding him together. He was light headed and floating from the orgasm, but no longer felt as though his brain was half a mile from his body. Despite his shaking limbs, he felt steadier than before they'd begun.   
  
Byers felt tears start, but didn't bother to hold them back, though he wasn't sure why he was crying. He thought maybe it was his relief that brought them on. He felt like an immense buildup of pressure had left his body through his orgasm, and that the remainder was flowing away with his tears. There were no body-shaking sobs, merely the soft, silent running of warm salten liquid down his cheeks.  
  
Doggett, still buried deep in Byers' body, raised his face and saw the tears. "How do you feel?" he asked quietly. Before Byers could answer, Doggett was wiping the tears away with his fingers.  
  
"Better," Byers answered. "Steadier. Calmer."  
  
Doggett nodded. "Good. Do you want me to move yet?"  
  
Byers shook his head. "No, please stay here for a while. I need this. It feels good."  
  
"All right."   
  
Doggett kissed Byers, and he responded, gently this time. The sense of urgency was slowly being replaced with a feeling of peace and contentment. Byers could feel exhaustion settling in on him like a heavy blanket. He wanted to fall asleep like this, with Doggett in him, on him. Was this what trust felt like, he wondered. It had been so long he wasn't sure he'd recognize it when he found it.  
  
Again, Doggett had kept a promise. But the physical things were easy, Byers knew. It was the emotional promises that were hard, and betrayals often took a long time to make themselves known. He wanted to trust Doggett, but knew he still had to keep a certain distance, even now. He had to wait and watch, had to let Doggett prove that he wouldn't betray him, wouldn't turn out to be on the wrong side of the lines of force and power that surrounded his life so tightly.  
  
His paranoia and his desire for closeness warred within him. He sighed as Doggett held him, feeling cared for, but not knowing if his own emotions were trustworthy.  
  
"Where are you, Johnny?" Doggett asked. "Talk to me."  
  
"Just thinking."  
  
"About what?"  
  
Byers hesitated, but saw the concern in Doggett's eyes and decided to be truthful rather than evade his feelings. "Paranoia. Fear. Betrayal." He paused and took a breath. "Trust." He rubbed the leather restraints at his wrists.  
  
Doggett nodded. "Thanks for not brushin' it off," he said, "not brushin' me off. I know none of this comes easy for you." He could see the exhaustion in Byers' face, and hoped it meant the man would sleep well and rest.  
  
"I'm tired, though," Byers said.  
  
"I know. Me too." He kissed Byers again before slowly and carefully withdrawing from his body. "You go ahead and stay here. I'll get some washcloths so we can get cleaned up."  
  
"Thank you." Even Byers' voice sounded exhausted.  
  
Doggett rose and went into the bathroom to toss the full condom and clean himself, returning with warm, wet washcloths for Byers. Byers was already half asleep, so Doggett washed him carefully, then tossed the cloths aside and climbed back into bed. Since Byers hadn't taken the restraints off his wrists, Doggett left them there. They'd do no harm if he slept in them. Settling himself in, he took Byers in his arms again, watching him silently as the slender man slipped into sleep.  
  
It had been a good day. Things had gone so much better than he'd hoped. He thought about Byers for a long time, wondering what it would be like to have his trust. Like Mulder, Byers was a very wary man. His trust would never be given lightly. It seemed almost against his nature. He wondered what would have to happen before it was granted to him, and how he'd react if and when it finally occurred.   
  
Their world was dangerous and frightening. Doggett knew that on some level, Byers had a deeper understanding of what must really be going on than he did. The hacker had been in the middle of it for so many years that, even though he was younger and sometimes seemed naive, he'd had more experience with the undercurrents than Doggett could hope to glimpse. There were secrets in Byers, Doggett knew; dangerous secrets. The overt silliness of some of the things he and his friends published sometimes seemed more of a ruse, a blind to fool the hidden powers into complacency. Doggett knew that Byers was too intelligent to believe everything the Gunmen published.  
  
He drifted into sleep with Byers in his arms, and on his mind.  
  
~~end chapter 1 of 4~~ 


	2. Saturday

WK2: Armani Weekend  
Chapter 2: Saturday  
  
(Disclaimers in Chapter 1)  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
NEW YORK CITY  
EARLY SATURDAY MORNING  
  
Byers woke slowly, and stretched with a quiet yawn. The first thing he noticed was the warmth of Doggett's body next to him, and he smiled. It had been years since he'd woken next to anyone. He missed it, but didn't want to think about getting used to the feeling; after all, it would only be for the weekend. Still, there was no harm in enjoying it while he had it. Shifting his weight, he rolled to wrap an arm around the sleeping man, but paused in his motion for a moment when he saw the leather restraint still buckled around his wrist.  
  
How had he gotten so lucky, he wondered. It had been years since he'd had so much as a date, yet somehow he'd found himself in a situation where his fantasies were being made real. It confused and frightened him. Nothing good ever seemed to come into his life without something miserable balancing it out. He worried that he wouldn't be able to hold onto this. No one had ever wanted him for very long except Langly, and that was impossible due to their circumstances.  
  
He thought about what had happened last night at the club. His life had always been an exercise in denial and he had never imagined he could or would let himself go so far in such a public situation. He couldn't believe he'd let anyone touch him the way Doggett and Brentali had in front of anyone else, much less five strangers. Three of whom, he remembered with great embarrassment, were having orgasms over his public wantonness. He blushed, knowing there was nothing to be done about it now.  
  
What made it truly frightening, in his mind, was how much he'd loved it all. What he'd done was so against his nature; allowing himself to be exposed and vulnerable -- to be sexual -- in a public place and in front of anyone other than the person he was having sex with scared the hell out of him. What had made it so compelling? He shook as he thought about it.  
  
With a sigh, he tucked his body up against Doggett's back, his arm around the man's chest, looking for comfort. It felt good. Doggett smelled good -- warm skin and a hint of sweat and just plain maleness -- and Byers buried his face in his Master's shoulder for a moment, breathing him in. Doggett was undisturbed by Byers' movement, snoring softly.  
  
The leather restraints around his wrists still felt good. Their presence was reassuring, though in a way Byers was only beginning to recognize. He wondered what he would become if he allowed himself to follow this path, to follow the disturbing desires that filled him and drove him forward. He'd let a man he didn't even know touch him in very intimate, sexual ways, and it had never been his habit to pick up strangers. Doggett's presence had been reassuring, but his own abandon to the danger and the sensuality left a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Had he been right to trust Doggett's judgment about Brentali? Had he been right to even want such a thing?  
  
He'd only had two relationships with other men that had been even vaguely similar to this. Neither had lasted for more than three months, and he'd known each of them for quite some time before he'd agreed to anything sexual, much less the bondage aspects of it, though he knew he'd wanted that. Shyness and fear had held him back on so many levels. His ex had entirely refused his requests, and in fact had been quite disgusted by them. She'd told him that no 'real man' would let anyone treat him that way; god forbid that he actually wanted such things. Her rejection had been crushing, and it had been the last time he'd ever asked anyone.   
  
Byers tightened his arm around Doggett's chest, wondering if the man would think he was good enough. He'd already been taken far beyond the limits he'd had with the other men who had topped him. All the things Doggett had done with him yesterday were unmapped territory in his soul. Every step was a challenge to him. He feared he might not be able to keep up, or that his inexperience would disappoint Doggett so much that he'd be rejected again. Only keeping an emotional distance could buffer the pain of another rejection like that.  
  
With his previous tops, everything had been private. There was never anyone else watching, much less participating. He'd been tied to a bed or a chair, and sometimes had been spanked or given a light flogging before he'd been fucked or sucked, but that was the sum total of his experience. It had taught him that he liked being bound, liked intense sensation and a certain amount of mild pain. He knew that Doggett had many years more experience than either of the men who'd topped him before, and he was learning that there was much more to the entire scene than he'd imagined. The possibilities weighed heavily on his mind.  
  
Doggett weighed heavily on his mind as well. The agent came across as tough, prickly, and rather gruff when he was working. When Doggett had approached him the first time, he'd been surprised. His own quick agreement to the unexpected proposal had surprised him as well. He hadn't been sure how things would go, but the man had driven him to ecstasy. He'd been left feeling awkward, uncertain, and fascinated, knowing only that he wanted more of what he'd been given. Doggett was strong and powerful and handsome -- hell, he was so damned hot -- and Byers didn't understand what the man saw in him. It was obvious Doggett could get guys like the Marine or the military groupies anytime he wanted, and as many as he wanted, so why on earth would he want someone like him?  
  
It certainly couldn't have anything to do with experience, because Byers didn't think he had any that qualified. It wasn't about willingness or obedience either, as Doggett seemed quite used to subs who knew their place and were well behaved. It wasn't about looks; Byers knew he was distressingly ordinary and unimpressive. It didn't seem to leave anything but some inexplicable hormonal reaction, really. He wasn't quite ready to rule out alien influence or government mind control just yet either.  
  
The more he thought about the whole thing, the shakier and more uncertain he felt. Last night had been so good, so intense. The experience was burned into his soul; he didn't think he'd ever be able to forget the night if he tried, and he didn't want to try. He'd learned more about himself than he'd thought possible in those few hours. His reaction to the sub on the cross had been nothing short of a revelation of needs and desires he didn't understand, and it shook him to his bones.   
  
What had happened with Doggett and Brentali had been even more visceral; his overwhelming desire to have Doggett fuck him in front of the man left him trembling in the morning light. The vehemence of his feelings chilled him to the core. Worse yet, he could still feel a ghost of that desire creeping up his spine. Had he really wanted that? Would he really have asked it, had he been able to speak? He was afraid to answer his own questions. If he let himself have an experience like that again, he was terrified he might lose himself so deeply in that sensual space that he might never come back.  
  
Byers' shaking was what finally woke Doggett. He groaned and rolled over, wrapping his arms around the slender man. Byers burrowed into Doggett's arms, needing the shelter and security more than he'd ever realized.  
  
"Johnny? What's wrong?" Doggett's voice was sleepy, but incredibly gentle. He stroked Byers' hair with one hand, holding him close with the other.  
  
Byers snuggled closer, letting Doggett hold him. "I've been thinking about last night," he said quietly, "about what happened. About how I felt when it was all happening, and how I'm feeling right now. It's... I'm confused, Jack. I don't understand what's going on in my head."  
  
"It can be that way for a while after an intense scene, and I know that for you, last night was really intense. It's okay. You'll be just fine. Come here." Doggett raised Byers' face and kissed him softly.  
  
Despite the morning breath, Doggett's kiss was a soothing reassurance. Doggett's confidence wrapped around Byers and allowed him to feel a little of his own. Maybe things would be all right if he just talked about what was happening inside him.   
  
"You did so well last night, Johnny. I was really proud of you."   
  
Byers sighed. "But you don't know what was going on in my head while all that was happening."  
  
Doggett ran the backs of his fingers over Byers' cheek. "Do you want to tell me?"  
  
Byers' breath caught. He wasn't sure if he dared. His inability to trust raised its head again like some unsettled serpent.  
  
Doggett sighed. He knew Byers would have to talk about it if he was going to be able to deal with everything. "It's safe to tell me. I promise that whatever it is, it's all right to talk about it."  
  
Byers struggled with himself for a moment, swallowing uncomfortably. "I felt so strange," he said, "when I realized that all those men were watching us, and then I realized that I didn't care. I mean, I didn't care then. Now I'm... now I feel really embarrassed. It's not... I'm not like that, Jack. I'm not an exhibitionist. I don't like people seeing my body. I..." Byers slipped into silence.  
  
Doggett held him tighter. "There's nothin' wrong with your body, John. You really are a handsome guy, even though I know you don't believe that. Your shyness is another issue, but don't you believe for a minute that you're not a good looking man. You just wait until you see yourself in that Armani this afternoon. You'll believe me then." Doggett smiled. "And what you did with me and Sergio last night is nothin' to be ashamed of. I was so proud of you. You were so goddamned hot I couldn't believe it."  
  
"But those men --"  
  
"Were loving every minute of it. But if being in front of other guys like that makes you nervous, Johnny, we never have to do that again. It's your choice, your limits."  
  
Byers closed his eyes and pressed his face into Doggett's chest. "But I don't understand, Jack. I'm so embarrassed, but I... I liked it. I loved it. I wanted it to be just like that while it was happening. Why do I feel this way now? Why did I want --" He stopped suddenly.  
  
"What did you want, Johnny?"  
  
Byers took a deep breath. "When Sergio... when he asked you to fuck me in front of him..." He paused for a moment and took another deep breath, then let it out. "When... god, Jack, I wanted you to do it. I wanted you to fuck me. I wanted you to show him I was yours."  
  
Doggett sighed and rubbed Byers' back. "Even if you had asked, even if you begged, I wouldn't have done it. I wanted to, so much, but I would never have done it." Byers could hear the ache and the desire in Doggett's voice. "It wasn't something we agreed to, John, and this is so new to you. If you're embarrassed by what did happen in front of the guys in that room, you'd never have forgiven me for going that far. No matter how much you might have wanted it in the heat of it all, it would have hurt you when you came down from the high you were feeling, and I won't do that to you. That's why we set limits in the first place." Doggett was emphatic, his voice insistent but so gentle.  
  
Byers hadn't realized until that moment just how emotionally raw he still was. He broke down, weeping. Doggett had said exactly what he'd needed to hear. It was a reassurance that he'd been safe all along, safe from himself, no matter what he'd been feeling during and after the experience.  
  
Doggett held him, rocking him gently in his arms. "It's okay," he whispered, "you're okay. What you felt was okay, Johnny. It's natural to want that when you're in that state. It's why you negotiate first, when you're still rational. It's why you need to be with someone you can trust, who won't push your limits or abuse you. It's why you need space to come down afterwards, like we've got right now."  
  
"I was so out of control," Byers said, struggling with his tears. "I think I would have done anything. I'm not like that, I'm just not like that!"  
  
"I know, I know." Doggett brushed his cheek in Byers' hair, just holding him and rocking him. "I wouldn't have let anything happen that I knew you didn't want. It all turned out okay. You're safe, and nothing happened that you didn't want. Focus on that, okay?"  
  
"I'm scared, Jack. I felt so damned good. I was floating, it was so good. It was like I wasn't even in my body anymore. Your body," Byers choked back a sob, "your body and these cuffs, they're all that kept me together after we got back last night. I'm scared because I want it so much. I want to feel like that again, and it terrifies me."  
  
Doggett shifted his weight and rolled so that he was partly on top of Byers, still holding him tight in his arms.   
  
"It's okay to be scared, Johnny. Nothing's gonna hurt you, I promise. You can feel like that again, but we'll go slow, okay? Just you and me. We'll make it so you feel good like that again, and we won't push you any further than you're ready to go. It's okay to back off a little after you've pushed yourself so far. You need to give yourself some breathing space, let yourself get used to things." He kissed Byers' forehead. "As you get used to it, you'll be able to do more. You'll be able to take things further. It's so overwhelming and frightening right now because it's all new. With time, you'll know what to expect and you won't feel like this afterwards anymore. You'll get more confident."  
  
The weight of Doggett's body felt right to Byers. "Yeah, like this," he whispered, already starting to calm down. "I need this. It's helping."   
  
Doggett had been right. So much had been stirred up inside him that it was hard to sort through. He wasn't sure he would want to do much of anything today but just spend time being close to Doggett and working on screwing his head back on properly. He felt... clingy. He was used to feeling nervous, anxious, and paranoid. Those feelings were old and faithful companions. This one was uncomfortable, but he was fairly sure it wouldn't last more than a few hours. And maybe next time, as his Master had said, his reaction wouldn't be so intense.  
  
"I'm right here for as long as you need me," Doggett said.  
  
"I still want those things," Byers said. "I mean, I do, but I don't." He looked up at Doggett. "I do, but not yet, I guess is what I'm trying to say."  
  
"Which things are you talking about, though? Being fucked in front of Sergio? Being played with in front of other people? Being up on that cross that you were so fascinated with last night? Something else?" There was a mix of compassion and curiosity in Doggett's voice. "Knowing this stuff will help me know what you want and how to treat you," he said.  
  
Byers closed his eyes, blushing. "All of it. All of that, and other things... I want you to push me over the edge, Jack. I want you to..." He took a deep breath. "I want you," he whispered. "I just... I just want to be able to feel like that again. I've never felt like that before. I've never been able to lose myself like that, and it felt so good. But I'm afraid I'll fall in and never come back. Why the hell does it have to scare me so much?"  
  
"Because you're looking into the abyss, Johnny," Doggett said. "You're seeing some of the things you've been hiding from yourself your whole life. You don't have to worry about coming back, though. You always will. Learning that what you want isn't what you thought it was can be a hell of a shock to your system. This is part of you. It would scare the hell out of anybody to learn that they're not what they thought they were." Doggett rolled some of his weight off Byers, and the bearded man shifted with him, not wanting to lose the body contact.   
  
"Don't let go," Byers said. Doggett held him closer.  
  
"I know you think you're not like that, that maybe that you shouldn't want or like what you had last night," Doggett continued. "But there's a part of you that really is that, too. Part of you is a little bit exhibitionistic, part of you does want to be watched, does want to be touched by more than one person. Part of you wants to be pushed past your limits. And that's okay. Those are the parts of you that loved what you felt, that want to feel that way again. As you learn more about those parts of yourself, you'll be more confident about knowing what they want, how they react, how far they're willing to go -- and what things will be safe to do. It'll all fall together someday and in the end, it'll just be you; everything you are now, and everything you want to be."  
  
"And when is that supposed to happen?" Byers said, brushing away the remaining traces of his tears.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "I don't know. It's not like there's some calendar you can check it against. It ain't like that. It happens as it happens, and it's different for everybody. You're a pretty shy, quiet guy, and it may take you a long time to get through it all. But maybe you're a hell of a lot braver than you think, and it won't take that long at all. There's no way to tell. You just gotta live it."  
  
Byers sighed, nodding. "Story of my life," he said.  
  
Byers finally stopped shaking, but wasn't sure he was ready to get out of bed and face the day yet. Doggett stayed under the covers, holding him for another few moments. "What do you want to do today, Johnny?" he asked.  
  
"I'm not sure yet," Byers said. "I'm hungry, though."  
  
"Do you think a soak in the Jacuzzi might help you feel a little steadier?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers thought for a moment, then smiled. "Yeah. I think it might. But I don't want to get up just yet."  
  
"Well, I'm gonna have to in a couple of minutes, 'cuz I've gotta piss like a racehorse," Doggett said, chuckling. He squeezed Byers close. "Those wrist restraints, do you want 'em off yet?"  
  
Byers nodded. "I think I can cope with that."  
  
Doggett rolled Byers on top of him. "Gimme your hands."  
  
Bracing himself on the bed with one arm, Byers leaned up slightly and let Doggett remove first one, then the other. Doggett tossed them onto the bedside stand. Taking Byers' face in both hands, he pulled him in for a kiss, and Byers slid his tongue into Doggett's mouth. The kiss was soft and deep, and both of them moaned as it went on. Byers was tempted to ask if Doggett would fuck him before they got up, but realized he genuinely wasn't ready for it yet. Long moments later, they came up for air.  
  
"Up," Doggett said, patting Byers' ass. "And don't nail me in the bladder when you do it."  
  
Byers laughed. "Just what I need to start the day, getting you pissed off."  
  
Doggett snorted. "Right now, it'd be more like gettin' yourself pissed on."  
  
Byers made a face. "Ewwww."  
  
Doggett laughed. "Okay, that's one kink we can rule out." Byers could only blush in response.  
  
Byers rolled off Doggett, and Doggett got out of bed, hurrying to the bathroom. After he relieved himself, he started running water into the big Jacuzzi tub for Byers. Taking a few moments to brush his teeth and shave as the water ran, he considered their morning options.  
  
He had to call Brentali and let him know how Byers was doing. He'd do that while Byers soaked. He needed a shower as well, but maybe Byers would want to shower with him after he was out of the tub. By that time, the man might be feeling up to being touched and played with a little under the hot, running water. Doggett didn't want anything elaborate, but he wanted to indulge himself a little. Perhaps Byers would be up to being sucked. It would be an offer rather than an order; he wouldn't be upset if Byers refused. Doggett knew his sub still needed time to sort himself out, but it would be a good way to start the day if the offer was accepted.  
  
They'd have to do something about breakfast, but he really didn't want to decide that until he discussed it with Byers. They could do that after the shower.  
  
Byers came into the bathroom and slid his arms around Doggett's waist, resting his bearded chin on his Master's shoulder. Doggett enjoyed the feeling, enjoyed the closeness.  
  
"You doin' okay?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers smiled. "Wondered if you'd fallen in. I need to use the bathroom."  
  
Doggett finished rinsing the shaving cream from his face. "Yeah, okay. I just had to finish shaving. It's all yours."  
  
"Thanks." Byers kissed Doggett's shoulder and let him go. Doggett left the man to his morning routine.  
  
Returning to the bedroom, Doggett wrapped himself in a robe and tied the belt, then settled down in the living room with his cell phone. He dialed Brentali's number.  
  
"Pronto."  
  
Doggett smiled. "Hey Sergio."  
  
"Ah, John! How are you this morning, and how is your delectable young friend?"  
  
"I'm fine, thanks. Johnny seems to be doing okay. Still kinda shaky, but I think we both expected that, yeah?"  
  
"Yes, yes," Brentali said. "He did have that look about him last night. Did he manage to sleep?"  
  
"Yeah. Took a while for him to settle enough, though."  
  
Brentali chuckled. "I assume you had to give him satisfaction before that happened, eh?"  
  
Doggett laughed. "What, you think I'm gonna tell you?"  
  
"You always have before." Brentali's voice was smug and amused.  
  
"Lyin' sack," Doggett said. "You just want to hear all the gory details so you can whack off while I tell you."  
  
Brentali snorted. "You have such doubts about my noble motives, John. I just want to know that your new boy is properly cared for."  
  
"Want him for yourself is more like it."  
  
"Perhaps. Or at least to watch."  
  
Doggett chuckled. "Yeah, I knew that was comin'."  
  
"John, I wish to ask you something." Brentali's voice was slightly hesitant.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Last night..."  
  
"What about it?" Doggett was curious now.  
  
Brentali hesitated. "How long have you known your Mr. Byers, John?"  
  
"Met him about a year ago. He and his pals, they've done some work for me in that time."  
  
"Yes, so you said, but -- forgive me for being indelicate -- how long have you *known* him?"  
  
Doggett blinked. "About a month. Why? What's this about, Sergio?"  
  
Doggett could hear Brentali taking a deep breath before he spoke. "Last night, John, when he was in distress, you said something to him. It gave me pause."  
  
"What was that?" Doggett was truly puzzled now.  
  
"You called him... well, you called him something I have only ever heard you call Barbara, before the divorce. When did you become so attached to this young man that you're calling him 'babe'? Is this a serious relationship for you?"  
  
Doggett sat in stunned silence.  
  
A few moments later, Brentali spoke again. "John?"  
  
Doggett shook himself out of it. "I... Are you sure you heard right?"  
  
"Quite so, John. Are you all right?"  
  
Doggett thought for a moment. He didn't remember saying it. He certainly wasn't close enough to Byers that he would call him that. "You musta heard wrong, Sergio. That's not possible. I hardly know the guy yet. We've only played once before this weekend." He knew didn't have that depth of feeling for Byers. But the inexplicable attraction he felt... No.  
  
Brentali sighed. "My friend, I do know what I heard. I found it... quite curious. I know you don't attach yourself to other men easily, and I wondered if you had perhaps found someone at last. But if this makes you uncomfortable, I'll drop it. Have you and your boy had breakfast yet?"  
  
"Ah, no, we haven't." Doggett was grateful for the change of subject. He didn't want to think about what Brentali had said, or its possible implications.  
  
"Then why don't you join me in about an hour?"  
  
"Can we make it about an hour and a half? Johnny's taking a soak in the Jacuzzi," Doggett said. "I don't want to have to drag him out too soon."  
  
Brentali's voice was cheerful. "Certainly." He laughed. "That exquisite specimen of yours is in the bath and you're on the phone with me? Such heedless neglect. At any rate, I'll expect you to join me at Sarabeths' West then. I think it would be good for your boy to get to know me as Sergio, rather than seeing me only as an authority. It'll be my treat, all right?"  
  
"That might be good for him. But about the treat, are you sure?"   
  
"Oh, yes. Absolutely. Are we agreed?"  
  
"Sure, Sergio. Thanks. I'll look forward to it."  
  
"Ciao, then!"  
  
Doggett smiled. "Ciao."  
  
He set the phone down and went back into the bedroom. He could hear the jets of the Jacuzzi running, and he went to the door of the bathroom to check on Byers.   
  
Byers lay in the tub, his head resting on the back ledge, eyes closed. His face was relaxed and calm, peaceful. It looked good on him, Doggett thought. Much better than the stress he'd seen when they were still in bed together, Byers trying to cope with his fears. He liked seeing the shy, quiet man like this and stood for several minutes in the doorway just watching him affectionately.  
  
Doggett wondered why Byers' trust was so important to him, why he felt so possessive toward the man. He barely knew him. Other bottoms had come and gone through his life, usually quickly and without fuss. Byers had always struck him as a little odd, as did his friends, but attractive nonetheless. Brentali had been right when he'd said Doggett didn't get attached to other men easily. He had sex with them, not intimate relationships. He didn't know why this would change, particularly for a man like Byers. Doggett had always thought that if he ever felt that sort of closeness with another man, it would have been more like the type he usually played with; strong, athletic, much more conventionally handsome. It would have been someone military, or in law enforcement, he thought. Someone whose experiences had been not unlike his own, whose experience in the scene was akin to his own.  
  
Byers was a thin, wiry man, with an intellectual and emotional intensity and a soft air of gentleness that Doggett found appealing, but that gentleness was never anything he'd sought out in his -- what -- toys? Personal amusements? Pets? Most of the men he'd been with had certainly never been his lovers. Byers was quiet and shy, and obviously inexperienced in the scene, though he did seem to have clear concepts of his own boundaries and some of what he wanted.   
  
He doubted Byers had ever been anywhere near the military in his life before he'd been immersed in the conspiracies that threaded through both their existences. Yet there was a well disguised solidity to him just under the surface. He knew, as if by instinct, that there was courage somewhere in Byers, a core of something strong and resilient. There had to be, if Byers was willing to face and act on the same desires that seemed to terrify him so. Doggett suspected that once the man broke through the fears holding him back -- and he was fairly certain it would happen at some point -- he would be a seriously intense player. The thought set Doggett's heart racing.  
  
When Byers dropped his guard, opened himself to his own needs, his sensuality burned brightly. Doggett knew that this was part of what appealed to him about the shy man. Perhaps he was caught by the dichotomy that Byers presented; the enigmatic everyday formality of the quiet man in the suit, and the wild, desperate abandon of the bound submissive who had been writhing in his arms last night. Byers might not have ever been military, but there was a sense of discipline and honor in him that Doggett had rarely seen matched elsewhere. Did this add to his unexpected and deepening attraction?   
  
The mystery of it gnawed at him. Doggett liked solutions and neat packages, order and sensible explanations. Byers was neat, orderly, and sensible, but at the same time, he was none of those things. The paradox of the man was magnetic. Doggett went to sit at the edge of the tub.  
  
As he sat, Byers opened his eyes. He smiled up at Doggett.  
  
"Would you like to join me?" Byers asked. He held a hand up to Doggett.  
  
Doggett grinned and shed his robe. It pooled on the floor at his feet. "Yeah. Sounds good." He stepped into the big tub, sliding down to lie beside Byers, his back to a row of jets. Byers turned to face him, his back to the jets on the other side.  
  
The heat of the moving water felt good on his body, but better when Byers' body met his, face to face. They slid their arms around each other, Doggett savoring the smoothness of Byers' hot, wet skin against his own. He kissed Byers gently.   
  
"What took you so long?" Byers asked.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "I had to call Sergio. I promised him last night I'd let him know how you were doing. He asked us to meet him for breakfast."  
  
A whisper of anxiety crossed Byers' face for a moment, but vanished in his clear blue eyes. "That sounds good," he said. "I'm getting really hungry."  
  
"We have a little time before we have to be anywhere." Doggett caressed Byers' body with his hands, and slid against him, buoyed up by the hot water.  
  
Byers rumbled his appreciation quietly in Doggett's ear, almost purring. "I'm glad." He kissed Doggett's ear and nibbled at the soft skin behind it.  
  
"Are you sure you want to go there? I didn't think you'd be up for anything so soon after last night," Doggett said.  
  
Byers sighed and held Doggett tight to his body. "I just feel like I need to be close like this right now. Maybe a little something more, but nothing too intense."  
  
Doggett nodded. "I'd like to suck you," he said, running his hand up Byers' thigh until he came to his balls. He cupped them gently and caressed them, then stroked Byers' shaft slowly.  
  
"Mmmmmmmm. Yeah, please. I'd like that." Byers' eyes closed, his face softening in pleasure.  
  
Doggett shifted his body until he was holding Byers' hips in his arms, raising him partly out of the water. Bending down, he started kissing and licking Byers' stiffening cock as the water pounded against them both.  
  
Byers moaned, arching his back, then slid his arms up over his head. Even when pleasure was freely offered to him, it seemed he needed the vulnerability of that exposure. His chest rose out of the water, and Doggett took in the sight of his sub's wet, slender body moving sensually under his ministrations. He lowered his head and took Byers' rod into his mouth, licking and sucking. Sliding his hands up Byers' back, he savored the softness of the man's skin.  
  
Byers felt good in his mouth, his length growing and thickening with excitement as Doggett sucked. Both of them groaned and sighed at the sensations, and Byers shivered as Doggett's strong hands massaged his back and sides.  
  
Doggett would have teased the man verbally, but he was in no mood to talk. He sucked and licked and nipped at Byers' flesh, making the bearded man writhe and whimper under him. Dipping his head to take Byers in again, he tasted the salty liquid leaking from the slit in the head of his sub's swollen shaft. He loved the sound of Byers voice as he cried out wordlessly in pleasure.   
  
Doggett's own rod was hard now as well, and he shifted his body so that one of the water jets struck it as he moved. He shuddered at the intensity of it, nearly coming from the sensation, but held himself back. For a moment, he gave up Byers' dick and slid his body up along the other man's, taking his mouth in a deep, hard kiss. Byers groaned and wrapped his arms around Doggett, thrusting against him, their cocks rubbing hard against each other. The water jets and the feel of Byers' body against his own were driving Doggett toward a quick orgasm.  
  
He tried to slide back down, but Byers was panting, lost in the sensation, and wouldn't release him.  
  
"Let go, Johnny," he said, gasping with the force of his desire.  
  
Byers loosened his grip, and Doggett slid down his body, leaving a trail of nips and kisses as he moved back to the man's stiff, hot shaft. He sucked Byers hard, using his tongue everywhere along the man's length, caressing Byers' balls with an empty hand. With a shout, Byers arched his back and he came, thrusting wildly, Doggett sucking deep and swallowing his musky, salt come. Doggett's own release came quickly under the force of the water jets, and he slid up Byers' body again as he stretched and thrust against him, shaking and trembling.   
  
The men held each other, breathing heavily, unable to speak. Doggett lay cradled in Byers' arms, eyes closed, his head on his sub's shoulder as they panted together. They lay there unmoving for several minutes, each finding solace in the other's embrace.  
  
Finally, still a bit breathless, Doggett said, "I think we need a shower."  
  
Byers nodded. He stroked one wet hand over Doggett's cheek, then tilted the man's face up and kissed him softly. It sent a shiver through him. "Thank you," he whispered, his lips still against Doggett's.  
  
Doggett reached up and turned off the jets, then got out of the tub, leaving Byers to pull the drain. After a moment, he had the water in the shower adjusted to a comfortable temperature, and stepped in. Byers joined him, and they held each other under the falling water. After a few minutes, Doggett handed Byers the soap.   
  
"Do my back for me," he said. He handed Byers a washcloth.  
  
Byers soaped the cloth and scrubbed Doggett's back, pleased with the opportunity. It allowed him time to admire Doggett's solid, athletic build, revealed in light and running water; something he hadn't had a chance to do before. The feel of the man's muscles under his hands was sensual and grounding. Byers loved the way Doggett looked nude, and let his soapy hands stray down his Master's back to his waist, then to his firm, tight ass.  
  
"That's good, Johnny," Doggett said, his voice deep and rumbling with pleasure. Byers wondered what it would be like to enter the man, pressed against his back, hips striking that ass as he thrust into him. The chance of that, he realized, was about equivalent to that of being struck by a meteor while sitting on a bench in Central Park. Still, the thought stirred him and his stubborn prick rose. Once he finished scrubbing Doggett's back, he wrapped himself around the man's body, pressing himself close. He rested his cheek on his Master's broad back and sighed.  
  
Doggett took the washcloth from him. "Okay, turn around and I'll do yours."  
  
Byers let go reluctantly, getting in one more press of his hips against Doggett's ass, and turned as he'd been told. Doggett's large, strong hands felt good on his body, and Byers closed his eyes to let himself feel it without any visual distractions. He hadn't been touched so much in the last year as he had in just the past day. He feared that after the weekend, when they both went back to their daily lives, he would be left craving physical contact without recourse. In the midst of his warmth and the stirring in his groin, Byers wondered if he should withdraw, not let himself become too attached to his body's needs. He was well practiced in the art of self-denial.  
  
But his body refused to shut itself off, refused to let go of the sensation of Doggett's hands rubbing the nubbly cloth over his back, down his waist, over his ass. He groaned quietly as he braced himself against the wall of the shower stall with his hands to let Doggett rub harder, getting deep into his muscles. It was too good to back away from, too much to deny. He didn't want to, even knowing that going without the contact after the weekend would be hard for him. He knew the emptiness of missing another person's touch far too intimately, but understood that he had to deal with it if he was going to let himself enjoy the weekend. This was why he'd come -- to be touched, to be fucked, to be given some taste of his fantasies.  
  
"Where are you, Johnny?" Doggett asked, his voice concerned.  
  
"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Just thinking."  
  
"Seems like you do an awful lot of that." Doggett's hands caressed his shoulders and down his arms.  
  
Byers nodded. "I worry too much."  
  
"Why doesn't this surprise me?"  
  
Doggett's arms slipped around him, broad hands soaping his chest then his stomach, and Byers leaned back into his Master's muscular body. It felt good. Everything about this felt good. Leaning against Doggett was like leaning into a secure wall of strength; being wrapped in his arms, like being surrounded by an emotional fortress. Byers felt absurdly safe there.   
  
He knew it was absurd, because he never felt safe anywhere; all safety was relative, all security an illusion. For all he knew, there could be hidden cameras in the suite. The first thing he'd done when they arrived and unpacked was pitch the room's Gideon Bible down the closest laundry chute he could find in the hallway. They were all bugged, he knew. Susanne had convinced him of that the day his eyes had been opened to the conspiracies, back in 1989. Byers never left one unmolested in any hotel room he ever stayed in. Doggett had stared at him, shaking his head in astonishment, but hadn't asked about it.   
  
"You feel so good," Byers whispered, not caring whether or not Doggett actually heard him.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "It's not a one-way street." He held Byers tightly, pressing his own hardness against his sub's ass, as Byers had pressed into him earlier. If they had more time and he knew Byers was ready for it, he'd have happily taken the man then and there. The memory of the tight heat of Byers' ass around his rod was delicious and far too tempting, but it would wait. He ran a soapy hand over Byers' genitals, appreciating the heat and hardness, then slowly released him to let him rinse.  
  
Byers shuddered and sighed, turning his trim body into the water. He looked up at Doggett with longing in his eyes, and something else. Doggett wasn't sure what that something was, but it had echoes of the sadness that Byers carried with him constantly. He wished he knew what he could do to take that look away and replace it with something a little less haunted.  
  
He watched as Byers washed his hair, appreciating the slender man's movements, the lines and arcs of his body under the running water. He honestly didn't understand why Byers seemed to think he wasn't a decent looking guy. Byers was no gym bunny -- most guys really weren't -- but he was in damned good shape for a guy who spent most of his life parked in front of a computer. Doggett had heard rumors from Mulder about some of the Gunmen's 'funky poaching' expeditions, and guessed that it must be part of the reason Byers looked so good. It didn't explain Frohike, but then, what did?  
  
When Byers finished rinsing down, Doggett swatted his ass gently. "Out of the way. I need to finish up. You go get dressed. Wear something casual, okay?"  
  
Byers smiled ruefully and nodded. "As you wish."  
  
"You look good in it," Doggett called out as Byers dripped his way across the bathroom for a towel.  
  
"I feel weird in it," Byers griped.  
  
"You're already weird. Wear normal clothes long enough and you'll get over feeling weird about it. Nobody'll ever be able to tell you're peculiar unless you start talkin' about Teletubbies and mind control."  
  
Byers snorted as he dried himself. "The government starts early. Cradle to grave, Jack, cradle to grave."  
  
"You're paranoid."  
  
"You already knew that. It doesn't mean I'm wrong."  
  
Doggett laughed. "Sorry, Johnny. You're gonna have to prove that Teletubby thing to me with more than just a couple of screen captures and an alleged translation of their 'dialogue.'"  
  
"You wouldn't say that if you had any idea what they're really telling the children of America."  
  
"What, do you guys drop acid and watch it to translate it or something? It's a goddamn British show."  
  
Byers shook his head. "Langly volunteered for that job. It wasn't my idea. And Great Britain's in on the whole thing anyway. Don't think for an instant they're not. They've been pissed at us ever since we won our independence."  
  
Doggett turned off the water. "You believe that hippie throwback partner of yours about something as bizarre as that? When he's frying, for god's sake? What's next? Back masking in Elvis records? Disney drug rings?"  
  
Byers grinned. "Another of Langly's pet projects. There's no way Elvis is dead. And they don't call it 'The Magic Kingdom' for nothing. We have indisputable proof that Mickey's been huffing helium and getting strung out on crack for over 50 years."  
  
"Oh, come on. Jesus, Johnny, Mickey's not even *real.*"  
  
"That doesn't mean that Disney isn't at the center of a huge media conspiracy." Byers paused dramatically, then laughed. "I had you going there, didn't I?"  
  
Doggett groaned and grabbed a towel, giving it a lightning quick twist, and snapping out at Byers. The bearded man dodged the snap and stuck his tongue out at Doggett, then laughed again. Doggett roared and charged Byers, who yelped and ran for the bedroom. Doggett caught him and tackled him, tossing the slight man down on the bed and pinning him with his body.  
  
"You don't think you're gonna get away with that, do you?" Doggett asked, laughing.  
  
Byers laughed breathlessly, then yipped when Doggett bent down, biting his neck and sucking.  
  
"We just took a shower!" Byers objected. "If you keep this up, we'll need another one. And we have to meet Sergio for breakfast."  
  
Breathless, Doggett kissed Byers hard and fast, then rolled off him, stood, and started drying himself off.  
  
"You got me all wet again." Byers had a very silly fake pout on his face.  
  
Doggett snorted. "Tough. Go dry off again."  
  
"Killjoy."  
  
"Hey, remember who's supposed to be in charge around here." Doggett tossed his damp towel at Byers. "If you're too lazy to go into the bathroom and get a dry one, use this."  
  
Byers stood and dried himself again with Doggett's towel. Doggett grinned and started dressing.  
  
SARABETH'S WEST  
MORNING  
  
"Do you think he'll be there yet? We're a little early," Byers said, looking around the restaurant.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "Sergio's always early. Look, he's over there."  
  
Doggett pointed off toward a corner table, where Byers saw Brentali waving at them. Putting a hand on the small of Byers' back, Doggett guided him toward the table.  
  
"Ah, buongiorno, gentlemen," Brentali said. "Please, please, have a seat." He motioned to the chairs opposite him. The men sat, and Brentali grinned at them. "So how are you this morning, Mr. Byers? Shall I call you Mr. Byers?"  
  
"Um, John is fine," Byers said, "and I'm... I'm doing much better, thank you."  
  
"Please, call me Sergio," Brentali said.  
  
Byers nodded. "Okay."  
  
Brentali waved down a server, and menus were brought to the table. "I would like a ristretto," Brentali said, "and my guests..."  
  
"I'll have an espresso," Doggett said. "A cappuccino with cinnamon for him." He motioned to Byers, who nodded.  
  
The server nodded and headed for the coffee bar.  
  
"So, I have two Johns across the table from me," Brentali said. "This poses something of a dilemma." He chuckled.  
  
Doggett and Byers looked at each other and shrugged.  
  
"I think we'll be able to figure it out," Doggett said.  
  
"Of course, my friend, of course," Brentali said, nodding.  
  
"How are you this morning, Sergio," Byers asked. He wasn't sure how to approach a conversation with the man. He'd never been in a situation like this before.  
  
Brentali smiled kindly. "I'm well, John, thank you. I must say, it was quite a pleasure to spend time with you last night. I hope we shall have the opportunity again sometime."  
  
Byers blushed. Doggett slipped a hand onto Byers' thigh and squeezed gently. "I... it was a unique experience for me, Sergio." Byers looked down at the table, then back up at Brentali. "I didn't have a chance to thank you last night. I don't know what'll happen later, though. That's up to Jack." He looked over at Doggett. Resting his hand on Doggett's in his lap, he offered him a tiny, shy smile.  
  
Brentali raised an eyebrow but said nothing.  
  
"We'll see what happens," Doggett said. "Right now, breakfast is a more immediate concern for me. I'm starving."  
  
"You were never one for skipping meals," Brentali said. "I don't know how you stay in such fine shape."  
  
"What do you want, Johnny?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers picked up a menu. He scanned it while the other men examined their own. "Oh, I think I'll have the Eggs Benedict," he said. "Some bacon."  
  
Doggett nodded as the server returned with their coffee.  
  
"Are you ready to order?" she asked. She looked down at Doggett's hand on Byers' leg. Her eyes darkened and she glanced away from the men, frowning.  
  
Byers blushed, embarrassed.  
  
Brentali saw the exchange. "Yes," he said. "I would like the mushroom omelet with the Italian sausage. John?" He looked to Doggett. Byers sipped his cappuccino to cover his uneasiness.  
  
"Scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. He'll have the Eggs Benedict with bacon." Doggett's hand caressed Byers' thigh. He picked up his espresso and sipped it.  
  
"Will that be all, gentlemen?" Her tone wasn't quite as friendly as it had been.  
  
"For the moment, yes," Brentali said, stiffening. He gave the server a disapproving look.   
  
Doggett looked over, seeing Brentali react. He looked up at her. "Do you have a problem with something?" he asked, glaring at her.  
  
The woman blushed. "Ah, n-no sir," she stammered, backing away and hurrying for the kitchen to place their order.  
  
Doggett looked over at Byers, who was still blushing, his face partly hidden by his cappuccino cup.  
  
"Johnny, are you okay?" Doggett asked softly.  
  
Byers sighed. "I'll be all right," he said, miserable. He looked up at Doggett. "I knew there were reasons I stayed in the closet."  
  
Doggett put an arm around Byers' shoulder. "She won't give us any more shit." Byers was sure of that, but uncomfortable at Doggett's public gesture.  
  
"I'm very sorry," Brentali said. "I come here often, and have never had trouble before. I'll speak to the manager if you like."  
  
Doggett shook his head. "I suspect she'll think twice before she does something like that again, Sergio. No real need."  
  
Brentali nodded. "You're probably right about that, my friend." He looked over at Byers. "So, John," he asked, "what is it that you do? John says that you are a researcher of some sort?"  
  
Byers smiled, and chuckled quietly. "In a manner of speaking. I'm an investigative journalist, really."  
  
"Oh? This is fascinating. For whom do you write?"  
  
Byers looked over at Doggett, then back at Brentali. "Actually, my associates and I publish a small paper ourselves. It's called 'The Lone Gunman.' We investigate governmental and corporate crimes against the public."  
  
Brentali's brow wrinkled. "I've never heard of this publication. Do you have much circulation?"  
  
"A little over two thousand subscribers," Byers replied.  
  
"Some of their stories are a little... uh... different," Doggett said quietly.  
  
"Is this available on the newsstand," Brentali asked, "or by subscription only?"  
  
Byers nodded. "Some newsstands carry us. There's one in Times Square that does. Our circulation isn't large, but it's international."  
  
Brentali smiled. "This is impressive. I should find a copy. How often do you publish?"  
  
"Once a week," Byers said. "Thursdays."  
  
"And John," Sergio looked to Doggett, "what have you been up to? I have not seen you often since you moved to Washington. How is the FBI treating you?"  
  
Doggett hesitated for a moment, then looked down at the table. "I got assigned to a different division. It's pretty small, really obscure. They call it the X Files. I end up working on some really weird shit, Sergio. Stuff you wouldn't believe. Hell, you wouldn't want to believe some of this stuff." He snorted, looking back up at Brentali. "Actually, Johnny's paper publishes stuff about some of the cases that have come up in the division over the years."  
  
Brentali looked intrigued. "I know you mentioned you were working with your old friend, Monica Reyes, but you were rather reluctant to discuss your cases. From the sound of it, you must be dealing with truly strange and unusual things, my friend."  
  
"I chase ghosts, Sergio. And aliens. And a lot of even stranger stuff than that."  
  
Brentali raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Stranger than ghosts and aliens? Why would the FBI have an interest in such things to begin with? Are these ghosts and aliens engaging in federal offenses?" He chuckled.  
  
Doggett cringed. "Sometimes, yeah, weird as that sounds."  
  
Brentali shook his head. "And how did such a fine man as yourself get put in such an... unusual position?"  
  
"I originally got assigned to a missing persons case on the Special Agent in charge of the division." Doggett sighed. "We finally found him, but things got really complicated, and I ended up working there. It's been frustrating, but some of it's fascinating."  
  
"Jack and Agent Reyes, and Agents Mulder and Scully, who were originally with the division, have cracked some vital cases," Byers said. "My associates and I have been able to help with some of these investigations." He smiled, pleased.  
  
"So you work as a consultant for the FBI, as well as publishing a paper?" Sergio asked.  
  
Byers shook his head. "Not officially. Our methods are... "  
  
"Questionable," Doggett finished. Byers shot him a look.  
  
"That's not entirely fair," Byers said. "I think 'unconventional' would be more accurate."  
  
Brentali looked at them, skeptical. "This sounds quite complicated."  
  
Doggett and Byers nodded in unison.  
  
"You might say that," Doggett said with a snort.  
  
"Too complicated for breakfast," Byers said.   
  
Sergio chuckled. "I shall take your word for it, John."  
  
They looked up as the server arrived with their food. She placed plates before each of the men. "Enjoy your breakfasts, gentlemen," she said, eyeing Doggett nervously.  
  
Doggett and Byers turned their attention to breakfast. "This doesn't look too bad," Byers said, trying a bite.  
  
Doggett grunted and nodded, too busy eating to respond.  
  
"John," Sergio said to Byers, "may I ask you a question?"  
  
Byers looked up from his plate. "I guess that depends on the question," he said, nervous.  
  
Sergio nodded. "It's all right, you don't have to answer if you don't wish to. I was wondering how you felt about last night. You seem to be a rather reserved man, and I simply wish to be certain that you don't regret your visit to the club, or our... interaction."  
  
Doggett looked up, watching Byers.  
  
Byers shifted slightly in his seat. "I... well, no. I don't regret it. It was... " Byers blushed again and smiled shyly, looking at Brentali. "It was intense. Overwhelming, really. I had a little trouble afterwards, when I was coming down. I've never had an experience like that, and I guess I had to come to terms with what it might mean about me, about who and what I am."  
  
Brentali nodded. "Yes, this is common with people who have little experience in the scene. But you are doing well now, you said?"  
  
Byers looked down at his plate. "Yeah. I'm still not quite my usual self, I think, but I'll be okay. I guess I'm just feeling a little... off, still." He looked over at Doggett.  
  
"We talked last night, and this morning," Doggett said. "Everything'll be fine. Johnny's got some pretty strong boundaries and he thinks things over a lot. He's the type that gets through that stuff and comes out okay on the other side." Doggett's eyes met Byers', and they gazed at each other for a few minutes.  
  
Brentali watched, silent, sipping his ristretto.  
  
Byers thought he was holding up well, considering the direction of the conversation. All in all, it seemed that their visit to the club had been a positive experience, if not the most comfortable situation in the world. But you couldn't push the envelope if you never did anything outside its confines.  
  
Doggett reached out and caressed Byers' cheek with the backs of his fingers, and Byers closed his eyes, leaning slightly into the touch. "You're doin' great, Johnny." Doggett said, smiling softly. He sighed and went back to his food.  
  
"Was it anything like you thought it might be?" Brentali asked.  
  
Byers shrugged. "I honestly didn't know what to expect."  
  
"Were you able to enjoy yourself?" Brentali took a bite of his sausage and eggs.  
  
Byers nodded. "Yes," he said very quietly. "Thank you. I don't think I'll ever forget it."  
  
Brentali smiled at him. "It was a great pleasure for me. You seem like a fine young man."  
  
Byers smiled, eyes lowered, but lit with delight.  
  
"You keep that up, it'll go to his head," Doggett said, grinning.  
  
Brentali laughed. "Ah, but which one?"  
  
Byers blushed and covered his face with one hand. "Please, not in public."  
  
"My apologies, John. I don't know you well enough yet for such teasing in a place like this," Brentali said. "I shall not do so again, you have my word."  
  
"I do better with that sort of thing in private," Byers said. "I'm used to it from the guys I work with, and a few other friends, so it's really not an issue, but this is... it just feels a little awkward."   
  
Byers glanced around the room, wondering if anyone had overheard any of the conversation. It wasn't the sort of thing he was used to talking about at all, much less in a restaurant where anyone might overhear. The server's unfriendliness had left him feeling uneasy to begin with, and the overt teasing didn't help. He looked to Doggett, taking the hand that was still in his lap, seeking reassurance. Doggett's hand squeezed his for a moment, and Doggett met his eyes again briefly.  
  
He wanted breakfast to be over. It wasn't that talking to Brentali bothered Byers, he was still just feeling a little too sensitive to be in public. He thought he really needed another hour or so of quiet and privacy before he'd feel completely solid again.  
  
"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," Byers said. He rose from the table to look for the bathroom, where he could have some privacy for a few minutes. He needed to get his bearings back, alone.  
  
Doggett and Brentali watched him go.  
  
"I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to upset him," Brentali said. "Are you going to go after him?"  
  
Doggett shook his head. "No, I think he just needs a little space for a few minutes. He'll be fine. He's tougher than he seems. There's something really solid in him."  
  
"He is a very sensitive soul," Brentali said. "Very shy, as you told me."  
  
"Yeah." Doggett was still watching in the direction Byers had gone.  
  
"It seems to me that, whatever you may think, something in you has taken very much to this young man. You don't act this way around your usual boys, John. I think he is more than that to you, more than just a new toy. You are very gentle with him -- very protective. More possessive than I have seen you in a long time."  
  
"I don't know," Doggett said, looking back at Brentali. "He's just... he's different, Sergio. I don't know why." Brentali was right, at least to some extent. Doggett did feel more protective of Byers than he'd felt about the other men he'd been with. Byers was as emotionally together as any of them, though less experienced. Doggett had trained and played with a few subs who'd had as little experience as Byers. He didn't feel that Byers needed gentler treatment than anyone else. The slender man's fragility was more illusion than reality.  
  
"He's an appealing young man, John." Brentali reached out and took Doggett's hand for a moment. Doggett accepted the gesture. "He has a seriousness about him. There is something very intense in him. Perhaps this is what is calling to you. The other men you play with, they are often serious players, but they are not serious men. This is about more than just playing for you; I can feel that. I see it in your eyes, and the way you look when you're with him. You have him call you Jack. This letting someone call you a special name is not your usual habit at all." Brentali drew his hand back. "And I know you have been lonely since your son's death and your divorce. That was such a difficult, painful time for you."  
  
Doggett shook his head. "I've had company enough since then. You know that."  
  
Brentali sighed. "Company perhaps, but no one who has been worthy of you, I think. There was no spark in them, nothing to hold your interest. It is no surprise that they never stayed long. Such men are like swallows, John. They come for a season and are gone."  
  
"Why are you all on about this, Sergio?" Doggett asked. "This isn't like you."  
  
Brentali smiled, a rueful expression on his face. "Because I have not seen you like this before. We've been friends for many years, John; sometimes more than that." Brentali's smile softened, and a knowing look passed over his face. "I know you better than you think. Is it so unreasonable to care about a dear friend when something so unusual seems to be happening to him? I envy you, John. Your Mr. Byers, he strikes me as a good man."  
  
Doggett nodded. "He is. I don't really know him all that well yet, but I've seen some of the things he's gotten himself into. He puts his ass on the line in ways you can't begin to understand. What he does, it's a hell of a lot more than just bein' some journalist." Doggett couldn't help the tone of admiration creeping into his voice. He gazed off in the direction Byers had gone. "Johnny's got more guts than you could ever imagine, looking at him. Sometimes you'd think he and his buds are real flakes, but they've risked their lives to find the truth." He looked back at Brentali. "Yeah. He's a good man."  
  
Brentali looked up and motioned with his head. "He's returning now. He looks rather better."  
  
Doggett turned toward Byers and smiled as he approached. "You okay?"  
  
Byers nodded. He sat and took another sip of his cappuccino, finishing it. "Could I have another of these?" he asked. The few minutes of privacy had really helped him get himself together again. He felt like he could face the day now.  
  
"Of course," Brentali said. He waved the server over. "Another cappuccino with cinnamon for my guest. I would like another ristretto. John, would you like another espresso?"  
  
Doggett nodded. "Yeah, thanks."  
  
"Yes, sir." The woman nodded and returned to the coffee bar.  
  
"And what will you gentlemen be doing today, other than coming to pick up the suit?" Brentali asked.  
  
Doggett looked to Byers. "Did you have anything in mind for today? We'll be doing a snazzy dinner tonight, but do you feel up to doing anything else?"  
  
Byers tilted his head. "You know, I've always wanted to go visit the Statue of Liberty."   
  
Doggett smiled. "I think we can handle that. I hear the ferry ride's nice too. Good view of the city. I think you'll like that. Could be some long lines though."  
  
"That's okay," Byers said. "It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day. As long as the sunscreen holds out, I should be fine."  
  
"You should certainly be able to make the tour and return in time to get your suit," Brentali said. "I look forward to seeing you in it. I'm certain you'll look quite fabulous." He grinned at Byers.  
  
Byers grinned back, looking at Brentali with lowered eyes. He was looking forward to it as well, though he didn't want to say so. He remembered how he'd felt yesterday, with Doggett and Brentali watching him try the suit on. They were doing a milder version of their territorial dance around him this morning, but he had to admit, it felt good.   
  
"He will," Doggett said, his voice low with arousal. He touched Byers' shoulder. "I can't wait." The expression in Doggett's eyes as he gazed at Byers was all the bearded man needed to know. There was want there. It felt good to be so wanted.  
  
The amount of attention Byers had been getting since he'd arrived in the City with Doggett yesterday was heady and exciting. Brentali had expressed an interest in playing with him again, more than once. He'd been surprised by it, but hoped that at some point -- though not this weekend -- Doggett would consider it. Byers thought he might be able to go a little further next time. It ran through him, electric and stimulating. He enjoyed Brentali's attention, but wanted Doggett to claim him in front of the man. Doggett's words last night, insisting that Byers was his, had been searing in their sensuality. He wanted to feel it again; wanted to feel it even more deeply.  
  
Byers shivered minutely at the thought of Doggett taking him in front of Brentali. He was beginning to get an idea of how much the other Dom wanted him. Letting Doggett tease Brentali with his body, feeling Doggett take him while the other Dom watched, was a fantasy that had burrowed into him, snaking into his bones. He finished eating his breakfast, trying to conceal his arousal at the thought.  
  
Their coffee arrived as he finished, and he took his cappuccino and sipped as Doggett and Brentali made small talk. They caught up with Brentali's more mundane activities since last time Doggett had seen him. Byers knew there had to be more beneath the surface that the two wanted to discuss, but understood that this was not the place for such a private conversation. He was curious about what Brentali did at the club, how he treated his subs, and what kinds of things the man liked, but it wasn't his place, or an appropriate time to ask.  
  
Doggett finished eating and wiped his hands on his napkin. "I gotta wash up. I'll be back in a minute."  
  
Byers nodded.  
  
"I'll see you shortly," Brentali said.  
  
As Doggett walked away, Brentali turned to Byers. Byers looked over at him, curious.  
  
"John," Brentali said, "I have enjoyed our conversation. I must leave for work when we're done here, but I wanted to speak to you for a moment privately."  
  
"About?"  
  
Brentali smiled. "I mean no insult to my old friend John, but if at any time you might find yourself looking for another Dom, I would be most pleased to have you." He pulled a card out of his breast pocket and handed it to Byers. "I do not ask you to make some secret of this. John obviously knows of my interest in you. But I would be quite delighted if you would stay in touch after you return home."  
  
Byers took the card and looked at it. He took out his wallet and slid the card inside. "Thank you, Sergio," he said. "I have no idea what's going to happen between me and Jack, though I'd like to have more than just this weekend with him." Byers sighed, wistful. "I do appreciate your offer, though, and I'd definitely like to stay in touch."  
  
"It never hurts to ask. I think we might be quite good together. I find that I like you very much. I hope that whatever time you spend with John is good for both of you. There is a great deal he can teach you. He is a fine man, very honorable." There was no subterfuge in Brentali's face. Byers didn't see any hint of ulterior motive in his expression, nor hear it in his tone of voice. There was interest, to be sure, but it seemed the sentiment was genuine.  
  
Byers smiled, blushing. He handed Brentali a card of his own before slipping his wallet back into his pocket. It was cheerfully accepted. Byers was struck by Brentali's classically handsome Mediterranean features, his dignity, and the older man's dark, passionate eyes. Doggett was equally handsome to Byers, though his was a rougher, more athletic aesthetic. He thought of his Master's sculpted, muscular body as they showered that morning, of how he felt touching Doggett so intimately, and knew what he wanted.  
  
Yet, Byers wanted to get to know Brentali better as well. The man intrigued him. His suave manners and the way he held himself gave Byers the impression of keen intelligence and worldly wisdom. The two Doms manifested different kinds of grace and strength. It was the difference between a nobleman and a warrior, Byers thought. Brentali seemed the kind of man who might be a medieval Venetian merchant-prince, while Doggett was well suited to facing the most difficult physical challenges. Both would demand discipline and obedience; both contained a powerful, magnetic sensuality. He felt the appeal of the power they wielded, and was attracted to both men for their different kinds of strength and authority.   
  
"I don't know what the future holds, Sergio, but I'm very flattered."  
  
Doggett returned to his seat a moment later. "You about ready?" he asked Brentali.  
  
"Yes, I really must be going to work now. It was most enjoyable having breakfast with you both. I shall see you this afternoon at the shop." Brentali stood and offered his hand to Doggett, then Byers. "Have a fine day, gentlemen."  
  
"Thanks, Sergio," Doggett said. "You too. And thanks for breakfast. The food was good, even if the service left a little to be desired."  
  
"Thank you, Sergio," Byers echoed. "For breakfast, and for last night."  
  
Brentali flashed a brilliant smile at Byers. "A pleasure, John. I shall see you this afternoon. Ciao, gentlemen." He turned his attention to the bill.  
  
Doggett put an arm around Byers' shoulders. "C'mon, Johnny. Let's see about gettin' you a visit with the Lady."  
  
LIBERTY ISLAND  
NOON  
  
"I never imagined she'd be this magnificent up close," Byers said, his voice hushed. He and Doggett stood outside the massive pedestal building, staring upward at the Statue of Liberty. Byers had a look of awe in his eyes. " She's... in a way, she's the personification of a dream to me. She's what it's all about, why I do what I do."  
  
Doggett nodded. "Yeah. She's had that effect on me, too. But you know, all the years I lived in the City, I never came to visit her. I always thought of it as a tourist thing, you know?" He looked over at Byers. "I'm glad you wanted to come, Johnny. She reminds me of what I fought so hard for over the years."  
  
Byers sighed and looked at Doggett, a shadow in his eyes. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I hope someday the dream she symbolizes can truly manifest. The shadows in the shadows, they make her promise a lie for too many people." He shook his head sadly. "Here she stands, looking out to sea, and all around her the truth lies scattered, ruined in the dust. The lies and the deceit and the false promises seem to grow in it like crabgrass." There was a harsh sadness in Byers' voice.  
  
"Do you regret coming?" Doggett asked.  
  
"No. I'm glad I came. She just makes me think."  
  
Doggett put a hand on Byers' arm. "Seems like everything makes you think."  
  
Byers made a soft, rueful sound and turned his eyes to his feet. "'The unexamined life is not worth living,' Plato said. Yeah. Everything makes me think." He looked back up at the statue, gestured high, to her head. "While we were up there in her crown, looking out over the City, I felt it, Jack. I felt what it must have been like when this was a new nation, and the people had hope, and the ideals of liberty hadn't been sold for a few pieces of silver. What the immigrants a hundred years ago must have felt, seeing her for the first time, coming here looking for that dream." He looked into Doggett's eyes. "Sometimes my life gets so buried in the conspiracies and the disinformation and the obfuscation that I lose sight of it all. Sometimes it's hard to live in the midst of all my disillusionment."  
  
"I know what you mean," Doggett said. "I think we've all got busted dreams and," he looked up at the weathered green copper of the Lady, "tarnished icons. Some of us just see it more clearly than others. You and me, we had our eyes opened, and what we've seen burns."  
  
"When the French brought her here, President Cleveland said, 'We will not forget that Liberty has here made her home; nor shall her chosen altar be neglected.' So much for the altar of liberty," Byers said, bitter.  
  
"I know you're not giving up," Doggett said. "That's not in you."  
  
Byers looked back at Doggett, a faint, wry smile bending his lips. "No, you're right. I know I sound angry and bitter, and I am, but the truth is I still have faith. Faith in individuals, anyway. It never seems to matter how much gets thrown at me, there's always some spark of it, hidden down deep."  
  
Doggett nodded, looking back up at the statue. "I took an oath when I joined the Marines, to defend the constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. These days it seems like there are a whole hell of a lot more domestic enemies than I ever imagined. It seems like they're everywhere."  
  
"We're both doing what we can, Jack," Byers said. "We're both looking for the truth. We're trying to expose the men who want to destroy the dream, whatever their purposes. I watched Mulder for years, worked with him on all kinds of unimaginable weirdness, and sometimes I think that once you strip away the outer appearances, the only real differences between us were the gun and the badge."  
  
Doggett looked to Byers again. "You and the guys, you work without a net. You don't have a budget or backup or the protection that Mulder had -- that I have. Sometimes I think that's the most amazing thing about you. Nobody pays you to do this stuff. Most of the time, if you got caught at it, the least that might happen is you'd end up in prison. How the hell do you live with that all the time?"  
  
Byers thought for a few moments. "The guys and I, we do this because we can't do anything else. We have a responsibility that we can't fulfill any other way. Working inside the government would tie our hands and prevent us from investigating a lot of the things we look into. But it's not... it's not really a case of the ends justifying the means. I worry about that a lot, because I know it might look that way sometimes. We do what we need to, but there are lines we just don't cross. The men we investigate, they have no lines, no uncrossable boundaries. Nothing seems forbidden to them. There's nothing they wouldn't stoop to. I wonder sometimes if there's anything they haven't done in their desire for power and control over us all."  
  
"You ever afraid?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers eyed him solemnly. "Always."  
  
Doggett nodded, regarding Byers silently. His companion been very quiet since breakfast, and silent as they'd stood in the crown. He'd watched Byers as he looked out over the city, lost in thought, an inscrutable look on his face.   
  
Byers began walking slowly around the base of the statue, quiet, an intense sadness reflected on his face and in his posture. Doggett moved to catch up with him.  
  
"What if it wasn't like this," Doggett said, "if the conspiracies and the corruption and all the weird-assed shit we've dealt with didn't exist. What would you do?"  
  
Byers shook his head. "I don't know. I'm not sure I can even imagine it anymore. Once, I thought I knew, but that dream's gone. My life is too different, and I'm not the man who could have lived like that anymore."  
  
Doggett's hand went to Byers' back, making soft contact as they walked. "I'm not talking about reality, Johnny. I'm just curious. Being who you are now, what would you want if you could walk away from it all today? If you could be anything, do anything you wanted? Would you keep doin' the paper? Would you still live with the guys? Would you go somewhere else, do something else?"  
  
Byers sighed. "I don't think I could ever leave the guys. I might not live under the same roof with them, but they're the best friends I've ever had. They're closer to me than my own family ever was. They accept me for what I am, and that's been rare in my life. No, I wouldn't leave them. But I don't know what I'd do. I guess I'd try to find someone to love, someone who loved me; settle down somewhere." He thought of Langly, and closed his eyes for a moment. A fantasy was all it could ever be, and he knew it.   
  
"Maybe... maybe I'd be a writer. Maybe I'd go back to college and get a Masters or a Doctorate and teach. Maybe I'd code for a living. Maybe I'd be a research librarian or an archivist. I haven't thought about it much, really. There's been no reason to." Byers looked at Doggett.  
  
"I don't know," Doggett said. "Those sound like good things to want. Basic stuff. A quiet life, somebody to love that loves you back. Makes perfect sense to me."  
  
"What about you?" Byers asked.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "You probably won't believe this, but I think I'd be doin' pretty much what I'm doin' right now. Even if the conspiracies vanished tomorrow, there would still be plain old crooks around that needed catching. I don't think we're ever gonna run out of bad guys."  
  
Byers smiled and snorted. "You're probably right."  
  
They continued walking, heading for the ferry dock. "You getting hungry?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers nodded. "Food sounds good. Not here though."  
  
"Shit no. National Park food? Stuff would gag a starving rat."  
  
Byers smiled, more with his eyes than his mouth. "What did you have in mind?"  
  
"I know a real good deli," Doggett said. "Best damned Reubens around."  
  
"That sounds like it has potential," Byers said.  
  
"Cheesecake afterwards, at Junior's? The Grand Central Station kiosk?"  
  
Byers' eyes lit up. "Why aren't we there already?"  
  
"Because you haven't got your ass on board the boat." Doggett chuckled as they approached the boarding area. They boarded together, Doggett's hand still at Byers' back. "You wanna sit somewhere, or hang out on the deck?"  
  
"I think I'd like to stand on the deck and watch the water," Byers said. "It'll be cooler there with the wind coming over the water than in the passenger cabin."  
  
Doggett nodded. The weather had taken a turn toward the typical sticky humidity of a New York summer, and the breeze would feel good. Byers found a convenient place near the bow, and leaned on the railing. Doggett leaned next to him.  
  
Byers was quiet as the boat loaded, looking out at the City's skyline, lost in thought. All around them, tourists watched the water and the skyline. Most of them took photos and chattered loudly.  
  
Doggett decided not to disturb Byers, falling into his own silence. He thought Byers seemed a little more withdrawn since breakfast, but figured that the man was still just working through last night in his head. As the passenger ferry pulled away from the island, Byers looked up at him.  
  
"Tell me about Sergio," Byers said.  
  
"You seem to be pretty interested in him," Doggett said.  
  
Byers sighed. "Well, sort of, yes. I think he's more interested in me, really."  
  
"Yeah. He is."  
  
"At breakfast, while you were away, he gave me his card. Wanted me to stay in touch with him." Byers blushed a little. "He said if I was ever looking for another Dom, I should look him up."  
  
Doggett chuckled. "Doesn't surprise me, the way he's been acting around you."  
  
"What do you think of him?" Byers asked. "Really."  
  
"He's an old friend," Doggett said. "I've known him for years. He knew me before I was married. He sorta showed me the ropes when I started getting interested in playing like this."  
  
Byers lifted an eyebrow and spoke softly. "Were you and he..."   
  
Doggett didn't answer the unfinished question. "If you ever did end up with him, I know he'd be good to you. He'd treat you right, teach you a lot. Sergio's a decent guy. I've always been able to trust him."  
  
Byers paused, thinking about it, then nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
Doggett slipped behind Byers, sliding his arms around him as the bearded man leaned on the railing. Resting his chin on Byers' shoulder, he said, "As long as you remember I'm not done with you yet."  
  
Byers leaned his cheek into Doggett's hair and chuckled. "I should hope not. The weekend's not even over yet. You can't dump me until I get the Armani."  
  
"And dinner," Doggett said. "And the show. Don't forget the show."  
  
"Oh, god, how could I forget the show?" Byers said in mock horror.  
  
"Goof," Doggett said, sliding his body closer to the man in his arms.   
  
Byers shifted slightly. "Are you sure we should be doing this in public?"  
  
"Everybody's too busy lookin' at the view to bother lookin' at us, Johnny. It's okay here." He raised his head and nuzzled Byers' ear, breathing into it gently and running the tip of his tongue along its edge.  
  
A delicate shiver ran through Byers' body and he sighed. "I'm not used to this," he said. "It feels good, Jack, but it doesn't feel safe, if you know what I mean. Especially after that waitress at breakfast. I just think we should be a little more circumspect."  
  
Doggett nodded. He didn't want to push Byers' boundaries for something minor like this, at least not today. "Okay," he said, loosening his arms and stepping back to the railing. He turned his head to look at Byers. "But sometimes, you really are more paranoid than you need to be."  
  
"No matter how paranoid you are, you're not paranoid enough," Byers said. "I prefer to keep things more private. You never know who's watching. Or what."  
  
"What actually happened there, anyway?" Doggett asked. "I just saw you and Sergio getting upset, and figured she must have had some kinda reaction to us."  
  
Byers nodded. "She saw your hand in my lap, saw you rubbing my thigh, and gave me a rather dirty look before she turned away. It really wasn't much, but I've already got more than enough people out there who'd just as soon kill me as look at me. I don't like giving anybody more reasons." He sighed.  
  
"I understand. But there are times and places where it should be okay for us to just be who we are. I don't talk about it at work or anything, but I'm not hiding very much when I'm on my own time. Like I said, Monica knows."  
  
"Did your ex?" Byers asked.   
  
Doggett was surprised at the question. "No."  
  
"Were you... seeing anyone while you were married to her?"  
  
Doggett looked down into the water. "Not until after Luke died. Things were pretty strained after that. We tried to work it out, but it wasn't happening, so I started going back to the club. I'd been with guys before we married, but afterwards, no. Not until things started falling apart, anyway. She thought I was seeing Monica because we were working together on the case, and she'd be around the house, but it wasn't true. I didn't start seeing her until after Barb and I split."  
  
"I'm sorry," Byers said. "That wasn't any of my business. I had no right to ask you that."  
  
"It's okay," Doggett told him. "It surprised me, but it didn't bother me. We don't know each other too well yet. I guess this is just part of that."  
  
"We'll be pulling into the dock again in just a minute," Byers said, looking up.  
  
Doggett looked up with him. "We'll get a cab when we get out of here. The deli's gonna be crowded, but the food's worth it." He straightened up and rested a hand on Byers' back again. "Come on."  
  
ARMANI EXCHANGE  
AFTERNOON  
  
"Ah, so good to see you again," Brentali said. "Did your visit go well?"  
  
Doggett and Byers looked at each other. "Yeah," Doggett said. "It was a good morning for it."   
  
Brentali stood before Byers, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Your suit is ready for the final fitting, and I must say, I'm very much looking forward to seeing it on you, John," he said, a purr in his voice.  
  
Byers could feel the purr slide down his spine. It caught his breath, and even if he'd had his eyes closed, he would have felt Brentali's gaze as it swept up and down his body. Standing between the two Doms was like walking through a high voltage field. He felt the hair on his body rise.  
  
"So let's get on with it," Doggett said.   
  
Byers felt Doggett move closer, hand sliding along his waist in response to Brentali's touch. The two men might be old friends, but Doggett's territorialism was expressing itself loudly. Brentali stepped back with a smile and led the way to the fitting room. Doggett's hand slid softly across Byers' ass before the contact was gone, and they followed Brentali. Byers closed his eyes and took a deep breath as they walked, trying to settle himself. The sexual tension between the three of them vibrated around him.  
  
He could almost feel himself between them, naked, their hands on him, their mouths hot and sweet, their bare bodies caressing his -- he pushed the thought from his mind and blinked, focusing. As they entered the fitting room, Brentali called on Ernesto, who had been there yesterday.  
  
"Espresso for Mr. Doggett, and cappuccino with cinnamon for Mr. Byers," Brentali said.  
  
"Yes, sir," the young man replied, and scurried off to bring coffee.  
  
"John," Brentali said, waving Byers up to him, "come here, please." Byers followed him. "Frederick!" Brentali said.  
  
The tailor appeared from between a set of racks in the back of the room. "Yes, Mr. Brentali?"  
  
"Mr. Byers has returned for his final fitting."  
  
"Oh, yes sir." The tailor smiled. "Please, come with me," he said, motioning to Byers. He disappeared into the racks again for a moment, then reappeared with the suit, and several other items of clothing. A moment later, he led Byers back into the dressing rooms.  
  
"He told me you talked to him at breakfast," Doggett said, settling into the couch.  
  
Brentali nodded. "I knew he would. I told him he should do so."  
  
"You know I don't mind you talkin' to him, or even seeing him," Doggett said, "but I don't want you trying to take him away from me."  
  
Brentali nodded as Ernesto returned with the coffee, placing the cups on the small table next to the couch. The clerk vanished as quickly as he'd come.  
  
"Have I ever done such a thing to you?" Brentali asked, looking over at Doggett.  
  
Doggett shook his head. "No."  
  
"You know I am trustworthy, John. And I don't believe he would come to me at this time even if I wanted to make such an attempt. I simply offered him choices for later." Brentali seated himself next to Doggett on the couch. "You yourself have so often said that you rarely see the same man for very long."  
  
"I know." Doggett sat looking at Brentali for a moment. "But I don't think I've ever had a guy that you were this interested in before." He grinned and sipped at his espresso.  
  
Brentali laughed. "This is also true," he said. "Besides, he is too shy to wander from Dom to Dom looking for perfection. I think he will be with you for a while, unless you dismiss him. Or at least that he would seek your permission before he moved on to someone else."  
  
Doggett pondered Brentali's words as he drank his coffee. He nodded. "Yeah, he probably would."  
  
Both men were distracted as the tailor led Byers out to the dias. Doggett's eyes widened, and he heard Brentali's sharp but quiet inhalation. Byers was stunning. The suit flattered the man's body, giving an illusion of broader shoulders tapering down to his slender waist and hips. The grey of the suit and the deep burgundy of the shirt and tie brought out the color of his skin and eyes. Byers was looking at himself in the wall of mirrors, a broad, pleased smile on his face.   
  
"Mmmm..." Doggett rumbled a quiet sound of appreciation. Byers seemed to be standing taller than he had been before, the slight slouch gone, shoulders back, head high. The difference was amazing. Doggett felt a stirring in his pants, and his chest tightened as he looked at his sub. "Damn," he said quietly, "he looks good."  
  
"Oh, yes, my friend," Brentali whispered.   
  
Doggett grinned. "Put a bow on him and I'll take him just like that."  
  
Brentali chuckled. "You must pay for the suit and the other clothing first, John. But yes, I do agree. I should like to take him myself."  
  
"Can't wait to unwrap that package," Doggett said. He could see the flush of arousal on Brentali's skin and in his dilated pupils. He raised his voice slightly. "Turn around for us, Johnny."  
  
Byers looked over at them, still smiling, and did as Doggett instructed.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to share?" Brentali asked, his voice wistful but low with lust.  
  
Doggett looked at him and snorted. "Not even in your dreams, Sergio. He's mine tonight." He turned his eyes back to Byers, who was moving slowly in a circle on the dias.  
  
"We should check the seams and the fit," Brentali suggested, rising from the couch. Doggett rose to follow him.  
  
"You look damned good, Johnny," Doggett said as they stepped onto the dias.  
  
Byers' broad smile brightened. "This is great," he said, excited. "I don't think I've ever looked this good in my life."  
  
"Remove the jacket, please," Brentali said. "Let's see how the cut lies on you."  
  
Byers unbuttoned the jacket and handed it to the tailor. Brentali bent to examine the seams, tugging here and there. Byers looked down at him, looking slightly embarrassed as Brentali's hands moved on his legs and his waist, wakening an erection. Doggett noticed Byers' condition, and it only served to stimulate him more. He wanted to drag Byers back to their room that instant and do terrible things to him.  
  
"This is a fine job, Frederick," Brentali said. "Excellent, as always." Brentali's fingers slid up the side of Byers' hip as he stood to face the tailor.  
  
"Thank you, sir," the tailor said. "Will that be all?"  
  
Brentali nodded. "Yes, go to the dressing room and wait a moment for Mr. Byers to return, then get the merchandise ready for the sale. Thank you."  
  
The tailor left for the dressing room, leaving the three men alone in the fitting room.  
  
Doggett placed a hand in the center of Byers' chest, taking in the sensual feel of the burgundy silk under his palm. With a slow, gentle stroke, his hand slid to Byers' waist. The cloth was soft, and Byers gasped quietly at the touch. He moved a step closer and bent to Byers' ear. "I should take you right here," he whispered.  
  
Byers' eyes closed and he swallowed, breath quickening, his fast pulse pounding visibly at his throat.  
  
"I bet you'd love to have Sergio watch, wouldn't you."  
  
Byers whimpered.   
  
Brentali looked at Doggett. "You shouldn't tease him so," he said. "But I must tell you, the effect is delicious." Brentali touched Byers behind his other ear, then slipped his fingers down the younger man's neck to the line of the shirt's collar.  
  
Byers shivered and gasped. Brentali's fingers moved over Byers' collar, then down over the silk on his chest, ghosting over a nipple on their way to his hip. Byers moaned quietly, trembling.  
  
"Go change, then come sit down and have your cappuccino, Johnny," Doggett said. "Don't forget to bring the suit and stuff with you." He moved his hand from Byers' waist up to his chest again and pinched his other nipple before he stood back.   
  
Byers whimpered again, then sighed as both men's hands left his body. He opened his eyes and looked at the men standing in front of him. "Yes, Sir," he whispered to Doggett, his voice unsteady. Doggett could see the heat in Byers' eyes.  
  
Doggett and Brentali moved back to the couch as Byers hurried to the dressing room.  
  
"You have such style," Brentali said.  
  
Doggett grinned. "I learned from the best." He picked up his espresso again and sipped.  
  
Brentali chuckled and pulled a pad from his breast pocket. Taking a pen, he wrote up an invoice. "It's gratifying to see you play him like a fine instrument."  
  
Doggett took another sip at his espresso, silent. The look in Byers' eyes and the sound of his voice were still running hot in Doggett's veins. He wanted nothing more than to get the man back to their room and see that look again, where he could do something about it. His fantasy of Byers in the Armani was close now.  
  
"Here is your total, John," Brentali said, handing Doggett the invoice.  
  
Doggett looked at it and nodded. He pulled out his wallet and handed Brentali two credit cards. "The suit on this one," he said, indicating one of them, "and the rest of the stuff on this."  
  
Brentali took the cards and rose, moving to the door of the fitting room. He called Ernesto, and the clerk arrived quickly. "Please take Mr. Doggett's cards. Use this one for this charge, and the other for the rest of the items."  
  
"Yes, sir," the clerk replied, and vanished again.  
  
"He shall return shortly with your receipts for your signature," Brentali said.  
  
Doggett nodded. "Right."  
  
Byers approached from the dressing room, the suit bagged on a hanger slung over his shoulder, a box under his other arm. The tailor followed him after a moment, then left the room.  
  
"Have a seat," Doggett said, indicating the space next to him on the couch.   
  
Byers put the suit and box down on the arm of the couch and sat. He looked at the cappuccino cup. "May I?"   
  
Doggett passed it over to him. Brentali returned and sat on a chair near them.  
  
"You look really good in that, Johnny," Doggett said. "I want you to wear it at dinner tonight."  
  
"Of course," Byers said, nodding as he held the cup to his lips. He looked like he'd collected himself again while he was changing back into the jeans and shirt he'd chosen for the day. Doggett noticed Byers was watching him and Brentali over the rim of his cup, his clear blue eyes curious and alert.  
  
"Do you like it?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers smiled as he set the cup on its saucer. "Yeah. It looks really good. I was amazed."  
  
"You weren't the only one," Doggett said softly.  
  
"You wear it well," Brentali said, a slight note of regret in his voice. "Will I be seeing you again before you leave?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Doggett said. "Probably not, though. Tomorrow's pretty full, and we're leaving for D.C. early Monday because I've gotta be back at work that morning."  
  
Brentali leaned back in his chair. "Should you bring him to the City with you next time you visit, you must let me know ahead of time. We should set aside some time to visit. Perhaps you will come to my house."  
  
Doggett looked over at Byers, who seemed surprised. "If I bring him again, I'll let you know."  
  
Byers' face flushed slightly, but his expression didn't change. Doggett could hear his breathing quicken again, though, and knew the quiet man wanted that visit. A lot depended on how the rest of the weekend went. And on what happened after they both got home. He watched for a few minutes as Byers turned his attention back to his cappuccino, focusing on the coffee.  
  
The clerk returned with Doggett's receipts. Doggett signed them, and took his copies and his cards back.  
  
"Well," Doggett said, setting his empty cup down and rising from the couch, "we've gotta be goin' and I know you have work to do. Thanks for everything, Sergio. It was really good seeing you again." He reached out and shook Brentali's hand, and the Italian gave Doggett a quick kiss on either cheek.  
  
"You should not be so long between visits, John. The journey up here isn't so far. You still have friends here, you know."  
  
Doggett smiled, genuine affection in his eyes. "I know, Sergio. The job takes me all over the place, though, and it's hard to make plans, or to get away. I'll try to do better. You say hi to Mac and Artie for me, would you? Tell 'em I'm sorry I missed 'em this trip."  
  
"Of course, of course." Brentali turned to Byers. "And I hope I shall see you again, John. You know how to contact me." He held a hand out to Byers.  
  
"I hope so too, Sergio," Byers said, shaking Brentali's hand, a shy smile on his face. "I'll be in touch."  
  
"Yes," Brentali whispered. His fingers trailed slowly across Byers' palm as their hands parted.  
  
"Come on, Johnny," Doggett said. "Grab your suit and stuff." His hand found the small of Byers' back again as they walked away.  
  
"Oh, John --" Brentali laid a hand on Doggett's shoulder. Byers didn't notice, continuing out the door without him.  
  
Byers walked down the street for a few blocks when his attention was caught by a shout, and an armed man running down the street toward him. Jumping back, Byers pressed himself into the wall of the building behind him as the sidewalk cleared. Two officers with drawn guns ran in pursuit of the man, shouting at him to stop. People dropped to the sidewalk as a shot was fired, and Byers ducked into a doorway.  
  
Nervous, Byers looked around for Doggett. Not seeing him nearby, Byers scanned the street for the tall, handsome man. He saw no one even vaguely resembling him. Two more shots rang through the air, and he heard screams. Looking around quickly, close to panic, Byers realized they must have been separated in the confusion. The only logical thing to do was get back to the hotel as fast as he could and wait for Doggett there. He hoped everything would be all right. He ducked and ran.  
  
***  
  
When Doggett finished talking to Brentali, he looked up. Byers was missing.  
  
"Damn," he said. "Johnny must have wandered off when we were talking."  
  
"I'm sure he is nearby, John," Brentali said. "It's unlikely that he would leave without your permission, unless he did not realize you were not with him."  
  
"Well shit," Doggett said. "I gotta go find him."  
  
"He will probably return to the hotel if you are unable to locate him. John is an intelligent man."  
  
Doggett nodded. "Yeah. That would figure. I gotta go."  
  
He walked out into the street and heard shots not far away. Looking for the source of the sound, he scanned the street quickly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two uniformed officers pursuing a man down the street. He turned and ran to intercept the fleeing perp.  
  
"FBI! Freeze!" he shouted. The running man looked at him and fired. Doggett abruptly shifted his trajectory, though he knew the man had fired wide of him. He had to be stopped before he killed a bystander.  
  
The two officers had seen him and heard him shout. One pointed in an arc along the street, indicating where Doggett should move, and he sprinted in that direction. Another shot, and the three converged, trapping the perp along a wall in front of Rockefeller Plaza. As the man tried to take aim at one of the cops, Doggett body-slammed him into the stone. They fell in a breathless heap on the sidewalk.  
  
The runner struggled, wild-eyed and far stronger than he should have been. Doggett did his best to keep him pinned, wrestling the perp for his gun. Seconds later, the two officers dashed up. One held a gun on them while the other threw himself into the fray to help Doggett disarm the man.  
  
Once the perp was disarmed and cuffed, Doggett was immersed in explanations of his presence. He started filling out paperwork, and giving a statement as soon as he was able to catch his breath. The cops' radios rattled with static and reports. With at least half a dozen shots fired, several civilians were down, and there were ambulances on the way. General descriptions of the shooter's victims came over the radios several minutes later, and Doggett's heart stopped.  
  
"...male Caucasian, probably mid-thirty's, blue eyes, dark hair, beard..."  
  
"Oh, Jesus. Johnny." Doggett's eyes widened. His stomach knotted.  
  
"What's up?" one of the cops asked him.  
  
"I'm in town with a friend -- that could be him." He looked around for the nearest ambulance.  
  
"Oh, man. Go check it out. Take this." The cop handed him a card. "We'll have you finish the paperwork later."  
  
Doggett ran down the street, looking for one of the medics. He waved his bureau ID to get close enough to the ambulance to find an EMT. "FBI," Doggett said. "Somewhere you got a guy, mid-thirty's, blue eyes, beard -- where is he?"  
  
"Over there," the EMT said, pointing a few yards down the sidewalk. Two other medics were bent over a body on the pavement, obscuring Doggett's view. Doggett hurried to them, breathless.  
  
The man on the sidewalk was covered with blood, his face partly concealed by an oxygen mask. "Guys, please, let me take a look at him. I got a friend gone missin' in the crowd. This might be him."  
  
"Who are you?" the blond medic asked. He grabbed a syringe as the other medic inserted a saturate saline IV into the man's arm.   
  
Doggett was breathless, panting. "FBI. Please, just let me take a look." He flashed his badge and ID at the man.  
  
"Move your arm, Phil," the medic said. The other EMT shifted slightly, allowing a better view of the fallen man's face.  
  
Doggett leaned in closer, half panicked.  
  
It wasn't Byers. He took a deep breath and let it out. "Thank god. It's not him. Sorry to bother you."  
  
After Doggett's heart stopped slamming into his ribs, he spent most of the next hour filling out paperwork. He was relieved that he hadn't brought his gun, figuring he'd have had to fire it, and then he'd have been there all night. Lost in the bustle of the work, he forgot the time. Eventually, he looked down at his watch. With a start, he realized that Byers was probably back at the hotel, freaking out, wondering where he was.  
  
He ran for a cab.  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
MID-AFTERNOON  
  
Byers paced the living room of the hotel suite, close to panic. He'd been waiting for Doggett for almost an hour and a half, and his cell phone was turned off or maybe the battery was dead, so Byers had been unable to raise him. What the hell had happened, and why had Doggett been gone so long? Had he gotten involved in the police pursuit? That would be about par for the man's personality. Compulsive law enforcement behavior definitely had its down side.  
  
His paranoid imagination saw Doggett bleeding somewhere, wounded. Byers shuddered. He went to the phone stand and pulled out the yellow pages, flipping to the hospital section. As he reached for the phone, the doorknob rattled.  
  
Byers jerked around at the sound.  
  
"Johnny?" Doggett's voice was urgent.  
  
Byers hurried to Doggett, reaching out to touch his arm. "Jack, are you okay?" he asked, breathless. "What happened? Where were you?" Doggett took him into his arms, and held him close. Byers returned the embrace. "I've been going crazy worrying about you. I couldn't get you on your cell. I was just about to start calling emergency rooms. What the hell was going on?"  
  
Doggett took a slow, deliberate breath. He loosened his grip on Byers and pushed him gently toward the couch. "I need to sit down," he said. He pulled his phone from his belt. "Damn, the battery's drained," he said.  
  
"What happened?" Byers said again, sitting and pulling Doggett down next to him.  
  
Doggett looked at him. "Sergio stopped me to ask me a question when we were leaving. When I turned around, you were gone. I walked out into the street to look for you and the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a fuckin' firefight."  
  
"Well, why did it take you so long to get here?" Byers was worried and angry.  
  
"I went after the perp."  
  
Byers glared at Doggett. "You *what*? There were people shooting out there! What the hell were you thinking? Did you have your gun with you?" he shouted.  
  
"Uh, no." Doggett looked sheepish. "I didn't think about it until after it was all over. I just ran to help out."  
  
Byers closed his eyes and counted to ten, then spoke slowly, not wanting to shout again. "You went after a guy with a gun, unarmed."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And he was shooting at people."  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Jack, that was incredibly stupid of you."  
  
Doggett shook his head. "It's what I do, Johnny. You know that."  
  
Byers sighed and took Doggett's hand. "You're not on duty, Jack. This isn't even your jurisdiction."  
  
Doggett nodded. "I know. I just reacted. I was a cop here for years; it was instinct."  
  
"It was dangerous."  
  
"Everything's dangerous. Breathing's dangerous. Who knows what you could be inhalin'?"  
  
Byers' lips twisted into an ironic smile. "I think that's my line."  
  
"Johnny," Doggett said, subdued, "they had some civilians down on the street. I had no idea where you were, or what happened to you." He swallowed, forehead wrinkling. "One of 'em... one of 'em answered your description. At first, I thought he might be you and I had to find out. Guy was shot up pretty bad. I was worried."  
  
Byers closed his eyes. "Oh, damn. I'm sorry." He looked back up at Doggett, concerned. "I had no idea. Are... are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I am. But just be here for a while, okay?" Doggett said softly. He pulled Byers into his arms and buried his face in Byers' hair, holding him tight.  
  
Byers inhaled deeply, letting his breath out slow. He settled his back into Doggett's broad chest and pulled his legs up onto the couch. "I'm here, Jack. I'm fine." He could feel Doggett's breath, warm in his hair. The feeling was comforting and relaxing, and he hoped that Doggett was feeling some of that sensation as well. Doggett's arms around him reminded him of the morning, when Doggett had held him in the shower. He wanted to lose himself in his Master's strength again, knowing the sensation of safety was a lie.   
  
They sat curled together, silent, for almost an hour. Neither of them moved, except to shift their weight from time to time.   
  
Doggett held Byers, face hidden in his sub's hair, breathing in the scent of him. It was soothing to just sit with the man in his arms. Byers was paranoid and a little twitchy, but once they'd settled into each other, he had been a steady, firm presence. The warmth of Byers' body was comforting after the scare he'd had. Doggett appreciated it, though he recognized the sharp, acrid hint of lingering fear in Byers' scent.  
  
Eventually, he trailed his lips down to Byers' ear, kissing it softly. "I want you," he whispered.  
  
Byers' arms tightened around his, one hand taking his wrist. "What do you want, Jack?" His voice was quiet and thoughtful.  
  
"Nothing fancy. No toys. Just you." Doggett needed to give his relief at finding Byers safe a physical outlet, and release his anxiety. He shifted on the couch, turning Byers' head with one hand, and their lips met, soft and gentle. Doggett ran the tip of his tongue along Byers' lips, and the man's mouth opened, accepting the warm, wet flesh. They sighed together.  
  
"Bedroom?" Byers asked.  
  
"No, here. I don't want to move. I want you here."  
  
Byers turned his body to him. After a second soft kiss, he began unbuttoning Doggett's shirt. Doggett's hands slid over Byers' body, caressing his back and shoulders as Byers opened his shirt and leaned in to kiss his throat.  
  
Doggett felt Byers' lips on him, beard tickling, his tongue running along the line of his collarbone as Byers' hands roamed over his chest. Tension seeped out of Doggett's body as Byers moved, kissing and stroking his ribs. He reached to Byers' waist and tugged the shirt from his pants, then pulled it up over Byers' head. Byers let him pull it off, then went back to his silent kisses.  
  
"Get up for a second," he told Byers. As his sub shifted and stood, he slid the length of his body onto the couch. "Come here," he said, pulling Byers down on top of him. Their bare chests met, arms around each other, and he closed his eyes and sighed at the feel of Byers' weight on him. It was comforting and solid. He wanted the man more for reassurance than for heat and desire.   
  
Sliding his hands down Byers' back, he cupped the slim, firm ass in his hands and pulled him down against his groin. The feel of Byers' hardening cock against his body, their legs intertwined, sparked his own erection and he pressed up slow and hard into Byers' hips. They kissed again, harder and deeper this time, groaning. Byers thrust down into him, and Doggett's body answered, hungry.  
  
After long minutes of slow writhing together, Doggett reached between them to unbutton Byers' jeans. With a quick motion, he pulled the zipper down, then tugged them down over Byers' hips to his thighs. "Take 'em off," he panted.  
  
Byers kicked off his sneakers and pulled his jeans and boxers off. Before he tossed them aside, he reached into one pocket and pulled out a condom and a small tube of lube. He handed them to Doggett, pulled his socks off, and lowered himself back onto Doggett's body, his knees on either side of Doggett's hips. Doggett dropped the condom and lube onto the rug next to the couch and pulled Byers' mouth to his with both hands, kissing him and stealing his breath entirely.  
  
Byers broke the kiss, leaning back to breathe heavily. He tugged at Doggett's fly, opening it, then slid Doggett's jeans down far enough to expose his hard, thick rod. Before Doggett could say anything, Byers' fist was around him, stroking him. He moaned, deep and urgent. Reaching up, he stroked Byers' chest, then ran his hands down the man's sides to his hips. Searching fingers caressed Byers' ass, spreading his cheeks.  
  
"Jack," Byers whispered, his eyes closing. He moved up Doggett's body, still stroking him, letting Doggett reach down to play with the soft, puckered skin of his entrance.  
  
"Want to fuck you, Johnny," Doggett gasped. His hips bucked up into Byers' body.  
  
Byers was panting. "Yes." He reached down and grabbed the condom, opening the packet, then lubed Doggett's shaft. With a slow, steady stroke, Byers rolled the condom onto him. Doggett let him spread more lube on his aching dick, then held his hand up for some of the lube. Byers squeezed some out onto his fingers, then leaned forward to let Doggett slide a finger into him. He groaned as Doggett penetrated him.  
  
Doggett felt a cool thread of liquid drip onto his stomach from Byers' cock. Byers' eyes were closed, an enraptured expression on his face. Doggett was surprised by how ready his sub was, so he slid two more fingers into him.  
  
"Ohhhhhhhh, god Jack, yes. Fuck me." Byers' voice was heavy with need.  
  
Doggett pulled his sub's hips over his own, then guided the man down and let Byers slowly impale himself on his thick, swollen shaft. He grunted as Byers slid down his length and took him in. Byers groaned, deep and throaty.  
  
"Please, Jack." Byers was trembling. He spoke through gritted teeth. "I want it hard. Take me hard."  
  
Doggett's heart skipped a beat at the intensity of Byers' request, and he dug his fingers into the man's hips and thrust up, striking deep into Byers' body. They both cried out, wordless, reveling in the feeling.  
  
After a few strokes, they fell into a hard, fast rhythm. Byers rode Doggett, eyes closed, moaning, tossing his head as Doggett drove into him.   
  
"God, Johnny, so good--" Doggett grunted again as he thrust hard into Byers. He was gasping, his senses overwhelmed by the tight heat of Byers' ass squeezing and stroking him. Pulling Byers down to his chest, he wrapped his arms around him and kissed the groaning, bucking man. Tongues entwining, their teeth clicked together as their mouths moved urgently. Byers' arms tucked under Doggett's body and he could feel the man's fingers digging into his shoulder muscles. Byers' hands were stronger than he'd realized, but the discomfort was far outpaced by the intense pleasure of fucking the man, and he moaned into Byers' mouth.  
  
Doggett could feel Byers' body tensing, and knew he was close to coming. He grabbed Byers' hips and slammed into him twice, three times, as Byers shuddered and shouted, spraying come between them, biting down on his shoulder.  
  
"Aaaaaah!" The sudden pain pushed Doggett over the edge. He kept bucking into Byers, thrusting into the man's tight core with all his strength, shouting as he spasmed and came. His thrusts slowed as he panted and gasped. Byers' body was limp, slumped on top of him, panting equally hard.  
  
"God, Jack," Byers gasped, "oh, god."  
  
They clung together on the couch, catching their breath, bodies still joined. Doggett kissed Byers' neck, sucking the soft flesh gently.   
  
"Need to move," Byers panted, "back hurts."  
  
"Shit, sorry," Doggett said, releasing him from his awkward position. Byers sat up and stretched his lower back, still impaled on Doggett's softening cock.   
  
Byers let Doggett slide out of him, then stretched the length of his body out over Doggett's own. He sighed as he settled down again, and Doggett wrapped his arms around him. They rested for a few minutes.  
  
"We're gonna need a shower," Doggett said. He ran his fingers over Byers' cheek. "God, you're so good."  
  
Byers kissed him softly. "I really needed that," he said. "Thanks."  
  
"Me too," Doggett said. "Feeling better?"  
  
Byers nodded. "Yeah. You?"  
  
"Uh huh." Doggett rubbed his shoulders where Byers had grabbed and bitten him. "I think I'm gonna have bruises."  
  
"Oh, damn. I'm sorry, Jack." Byers gave him an embarrassed look. "I didn't mean to do that. I was a little out of it there."  
  
Doggett nodded. "It happens. At least it'll be under my shirt where nobody'll see it."  
  
"Let's go get cleaned up," Byers said. He rose from the couch, offering Doggett a hand up.  
  
Doggett took Byers' hand and got up as well, pulling his clothes off. His shirt was a mess, semen spattering the front on one side. His jeans had survived intact, at least. He pulled the condom off and tossed it as they entered the bathroom. Byers was starting the water, leaning into the shower stall. Doggett could see the beginning of bruises on Byers' hips where he'd held him.  
  
"Looks like both of us are gonna have some sore spots, Johnny." He ran his hand over the still-red fingerprints on Byers' hips. "Sorry about that."  
  
Byers looked down at the bruised spots and sighed. "At least they won't keep me from sitting down," he said with a soft snort.  
  
Doggett pushed Byers into the shower and followed him in. They had marked each other. It hadn't been intentional, but there it was; tangible evidence of their sex and the intensity of their joining. Semen would wash away, but the bruises would linger for days. Doggett wondered how long Byers would linger in his life. He picked up the soap and started washing Byers' back.  
  
"You gonna be okay to go to dinner tonight?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers nodded. "Yeah. When are the reservations for?"  
  
"Seven thirty," Doggett said. "Rainbow Grill."  
  
"Rockefeller Plaza?" Byers sounded impressed.  
  
"Yeah. It's got a great view of the city. You'll like it."  
  
"Sounds interesting. How's the food?"  
  
"Top notch stuff," Doggett said. "Turn around, let me get your front."  
  
Byers turned and Doggett soaped Byers' chest and stomach. His lathered hands trailed gently over Byers' cock and balls, soft and sensual.  
  
"Mmmmm," Byers growled. "Don't get me started again."  
  
Doggett grinned. "And why not?"  
  
Byers laughed. "Because you're gonna kill me with all this sex. I need to work up to it, not start out running a marathon like this."  
  
"But what a great way to go," Doggett said, smiling. He handed Byers the soap. "Your turn. And don't lie to me. You love this."  
  
Byers blushed, smiling. "Yeah, I do. I can't believe what you do to me." He washed Doggett's body, then slipped his arms around him.   
  
Doggett felt Byers' hands slide over his back, then slip down along the curve of his ass, coming to rest where his thighs met his hips. Doggett returned the embrace and kissed Byers, their wet bodies sliding together sensually. Despite his protests, Byers seemed starved for contact, almost insatiable in his desire to touch and be touched. It didn't fit with the image he'd had of Byers, the shy, guarded hacker in the suit, formal almost to the point of absurdity.  
  
"You're so different like this," Doggett said. "Most of the time when I've seen you, you just seem distant, like you want everything at arm's length. Why are you like this now? It seems like you can't get enough of this."  
  
Byers looked up at him. "I'm not really sure," he said. "It's hard for me to be like this. Sometimes I think I shouldn't be. A lot of times I just feel safer if I don't let people close. But..." Byers hesitated. He looked down, leaning into Doggett's chest.   
  
Doggett held him closer as they stood under the falling water. "But what?"  
  
"But I need this. I hate doing without it."  
  
"But you don't trust anybody enough to let them this close," Doggett said.  
  
Byers nodded.  
  
"And you don't trust me, but you let me get close to you anyway."  
  
"It doesn't make any sense, does it?" Byers said.  
  
"You're tryin' something that's really hard for you," Doggett said, rubbing Byers' back. "It takes time. I'm not gonna hurt you, Johnny. I got no reason to. I like you."  
  
Byers nodded. "But I'm not really your type, either."  
  
"No, but it doesn't matter. You're different, but in a good way. You're interesting. You're a decent guy. I'm enjoying being with you. And you're a hell of a hot fuck."  
  
Byers chuckled. He looked up into Doggett's eyes. "You're pretty damned hot yourself." Byers' fingers trailed across Doggett's hips and ass, gentle and sensual.  
  
"Come on, let's get out of the shower," Doggett said. He kissed Byers again and turned off the water. They stepped out onto the mat and dried each other off.  
  
"What now?" Byers asked.  
  
Doggett took his wrist and led him into the bedroom. "I think I just want to lie down for a while." He sat on the bed and pulled Byers down next to him. "Come lie with me. We can talk some more if you like, or we can just be quiet."  
  
Byers nodded and they lay together on top of the covers, naked, holding each other. Byers rested his head on Doggett's shoulder, his body partly covering Doggett's. He closed his eyes, and Doggett lay there for a while, watching him, running his fingers idly through Byers' hair. It was soft and slightly damp.   
  
Doggett was still a little shaken by the thought that Byers could have been shot in the street earlier, and his temporary case of mistaken identity. He sighed quietly, trailing his fingers over Byers' shoulder blade. The man's soft, pale skin felt good under his fingertips. There was something very right about being here with him.  
  
Doggett's shoulder was sore where Byers bit him. He rubbed the spot absently.  
  
"Let me do that," Byers said. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend to bite." He kneaded Doggett's shoulder gently with one hand.  
  
"It's okay," Doggett said. "It felt good. Made me come hard."  
  
"I think I was a little occupied right then."  
  
Doggett laughed. "Oh yeah. I could keep you occupied for a long time, Johnny." He rolled on top of Byers, arms wrapped around him, hands holding his shoulders. He leaned in and bit at Byers' neck.  
  
"Uhhhh," Byers moaned. "You really *are* trying to kill me, aren't you?"  
  
"It could take hours," Doggett said. "Days. Weeks, even."  
  
They both laughed.  
  
"We should give it a try," Doggett said, with a wink.  
  
Byers looked at him. "You're a very bad man, trying to murder your obedient servant like that."  
  
"You'll die with a smile on your face."  
  
"I would, at that." Byers smiled and relaxed. "Thanks."  
  
"For what?" Doggett asked.   
  
"For trying to understand. For being good to me." There was a lonely ache in Byers' voice.  
  
Doggett brushed Byers' face with his hand. "Most people don't, I guess?"  
  
"They find out what I do, how I live, and most of them treat me like I'm insane." Byers looked away, sadness in his eyes. "I bet Sergio will too, if he looks up a copy of the paper."  
  
"I don't know, Johnny. It's possible, but I think he likes you well enough to give you the benefit of the doubt."  
  
"Yeah, right. What the hell does he see in me, anyway?"  
  
Doggett chuckled. "Aside from that sweet ass of yours, you mean?" He ran a hand over Byers' ass and squeezed gently. "Probably some of the same stuff I do. Intelligence, steadiness, passion, your willingness to take risks. And I know how he responds to shy guys; you hit all his buttons, I guarantee you that. There's lots of good things about you. You care about stuff, and it shows."  
  
Byers blushed again, embarrassed.  
  
"You're also awful hot when you blush," Doggett said with a grin.  
  
"Right," Byers said, utterly unconvinced.  
  
Doggett shook his head. "You need to learn how to take a compliment. Don't gimme that shit. Smile at me and say, 'thank you, Sir.'"  
  
Byers laughed and looked back up into Doggett's eyes. "Thank you, Sir." He still didn't sound convinced, but Doggett wasn't going to push it. Byers' small, shy smile made his heart beat faster.  
  
Doggett suddenly realized why Byers effected him the way he did, why everything about this seemed so intense. The other men he'd been with over the years had been playing games in the most base sense. They were full of bluster, taking absurd pride in their careful pretenses of submission. What bravery they might have had was largely bravado and over-done attitude, like the Marine at the club the night before. They were willing to take physical risks, but very few were willing to stretch themselves emotionally. They weren't willing to admit that they were ever truly afraid, much less discuss the things that frightened them. It seemed the only things they discussed were limits and scenes and what toys they wanted to use. Doggett had been playing surface games with shallow men for years; men who cared more for appearances and costumes and the perfect set of stripes on their backs than for genuine honesty and emotion.  
  
Byers might be fearful and paranoid, but he was honest about it. He had a hard time with trust, but he understood that and was trying to get through it. The "trust" Doggett had gotten from the other men in his life had been a sham -- a trust that only went as far as the game did. Byers was striving for something far deeper, far outside the games of dominance and submission. Doggett saw that Byers wanted to give him the same kind of trust he gave the other Gunmen; a trust that meant he was willing to put his life in Doggett's hands, and to risk his own life for him. What Byers offered, hesitant and afraid, was both a treasure and a terrible burden. Once given and accepted, even if they never played together again, that trust could never be broken. Like Langly and Frohike, Doggett would be a friend closer than family.  
  
The understanding hit like klieg lights on a moonless night, blinding. Doggett wondered if he was ready for a trust and a friendship like that, yet he wanted it, more than he could say. He hoped he'd be able to offer Byers that same gift. He wondered if he was sane. Was wanting something so deep from another man entirely rational? He needed time to think.  
  
The sound of Byers' voice was in his ear, but what he'd said hadn't registered.  
  
"Hmm?" Doggett said. "I'm sorry, I was thinking."  
  
"I was wondering when you'd want to get ready for dinner."  
  
Rolling over, Doggett looked at the clock and blinked. It was already six o'clock. "Damn, where did the time go? When did I get back here?"  
  
"About two thirty," Byers said. "We spent a lot of time talking. And doing other things."  
  
"I guess." He rolled onto Byers and held him close for a minute, then got up. "We should probably start getting ready now. I gotta pull my suit out, and then I need to make sure you're dressed right. I had some plans for the evening, if you're up to it."  
  
Byers sat on the edge of the bed, curious. "Like what?"  
  
Doggett reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out the leather cock and ball harness from the previous night. "Like this," he said. "I want you to wear this again."  
  
Byers eyes widened, and he took a deep breath. "Oh, yes," he said quietly, his response a low moan. His shaft rose as Doggett watched.  
  
"You really like that, don't you?" Doggett watched Byers' reaction carefully.  
  
Byers nodded and swallowed. He licked his lips. "Yes," he whispered. His upper body was flushing, and his nipples rose.   
  
It took all Doggett's self control to keep from pinning Byers to the bed and fucking him again. "Come here," he ordered. His own rod was rising in response to Byers' arousal. It had to wait.  
  
"Yes, Sir." Byers rose and stood before Doggett, his hands clasped behind his back, legs slightly spread.  
  
"Good," Doggett said. "You're a very good boy, Johnny." He knelt before Byers and began to bind his sub into the harness.  
  
"Thank you, Sir," Byers whispered, eyes half closed. His face was nearly glowing with delight as Doggett fastened and tightened the black straps around him. He was trembling slightly by the time Doggett finished.  
  
Doggett took in Byers' arousal, his half closed eyes, the look on his face. "Perfect," he said. "You're such a slut for this. Stay there like that until I bring you your clothes."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Byers answered.  
  
"And bend your knees a little. I don't want you passing out on me." Doggett ran a hand over Byers' bound balls and up his stiff dick.  
  
Byers grunted at the touch, shifting his weight slightly as he'd been told. "Yes, Sir."  
  
Doggett pulled his suit from the closet and started dressing, his eyes on Byers. His own suit was a darker grey than the one Byers wore, and his shirt and tie were a deep, sapphire blue. In his imagination, he could already see Byers in the Armani, kneeling, hands bound behind his back. He could feel Byers' mouth on his rod, sucking him deep. The thought sent a flush of heat through him. The simplicity of the fantasy surprised him, but it had caught his imagination the first time he'd taken Byers, and hadn't let go. The fact that Byers loved sucking dick and did it extremely well only added to the image's appeal. It would keep him focused through dinner, and Doggett knew the anticipation would only build.  
  
Doggett quickly finished dressing, then brought the suit and new clothes to Byers. He opened the box and took out the burgundy silk boxers, the new socks, the burgundy shirt and tie. He laid them on the bed and got Byers' new shoes from the closet where they'd been put yesterday. Taking the Armani from its bag, he laid that on the bed as well. The color matching was flawless.  
  
"Get dressed," Doggett ordered Byers.  
  
"Yes, Sir." Byers started slipping on the silk, sighing as it slid across his skin. The texture of the soft cloth glowed in the light. Doggett sat on the bed and watched, approving.   
  
As Byers finished up, he slipped the tie around his neck.  
  
"Come here. I'll tie that."  
  
Byers looked over at Doggett, the cloth in both hands. "Yes, Sir," he replied, and moved to stand before his Master.  
  
"You may not be wearing a collar," Doggett said, looking Byers in the eyes, "but I can claim you just as well with this." He took the tie in his hands and slowly tied a full Windsor at Byers' throat. "You're mine, John. Tonight, you belong to me." Doggett's voice was commanding, seductive. He knew Byers wouldn't be able to resist his words, or the sound of his voice.  
  
Byers shook as Doggett spoke, and Doggett could hear the slender man's heart hammering. His sub's blue eyes were dark with desire and a need to please.  
  
"Your body belongs to me. I can give or withhold your pleasure as I see fit. You're mine to take as I will. I can fuck you until you scream, or I can leave you frustrated. You will not question me. Tonight, you exist for my pleasure until I release you from your bondage with my word and my kiss. Do you understand?" Doggett gently adjusted the finished knot at Byers' throat.  
  
"Yes, Sir," Byers whispered, panting.  
  
Doggett put his arms around Byers and kissed him, then looked him in the eyes once more. "John Byers, you are mine."  
  
RAINBOW GRILL  
30 ROCKEFELLER PLAZA  
65TH FLOOR  
  
"We'll have the Scampi."  
  
Byers watched as Doggett ordered for them. He hadn't been asked what he wanted. Tonight, he hadn't expected to be asked. Shrimp Scampi sounded wonderful, and he had no intention of complaining. As far as Byers was concerned, life was just about perfect.  
  
He sipped at the white wine his Master had ordered. It was exquisite, and he knew it had to be hideously expensive, like everything else in this place. Byers wondered how Doggett could afford this. He knew what Doggett's annual salary was, and this -- the suit, the club, the hotel, the food, the show -- wasn't the sort of thing he could do very often, if he could do it at all. The question would wait, though. It wasn't his place to ask. Not tonight; not here.  
  
They had been seated near a window, and the view of the south end of Manhattan was incredible. The skyline was beautiful in the early evening light. Doggett looked magnificent in the dark suit and deep sapphire blue ensemble he wore. He knew that his own new suit looked just as good on him, and the feeling was deeply satisfying. The harness that was wrapped tight around his cock and balls was deliciously stimulating. Byers was happy to be in a place like this, as Doggett's companion. If he weren't so hungry, he'd be even happier to be back at the hotel, enjoying whatever erotic delights Doggett had planned for him.  
  
"The food here's great, Johnny. You're in for a real treat," Doggett said, his face light and relaxed. He was smiling. Byers thought he looked particularly handsome that way. So often he'd only seen Doggett in the midst of a case, stressed or angry.  
  
"The Shrimp Scampi sounds great, Sir." He took another sip of his wine. "The whole weekend has been incredible so far. How often do you do this?" Byers asked. He thought it might be a more subtle way to ask about what he really wanted to know.  
  
"Once a year, maybe twice," Doggett said. "Usually I get a new suit for myself once a year when I come and do the weekend, but this year, I really wanted you to have it." Doggett's voice gentled and deepened. "You look incredible, Johnny. You stand taller when you're wearing that. You look like you're proud of yourself. It's a good thing to see."  
  
"Thank you, Sir." Byers smiled, blushing, and lowered his eyes to the table as the salads and antipasti arrived. The waiter was fast and efficient, and Byers almost didn't notice his presence.  
  
Doggett grinned at him. "I can't help thinking about what I want to do to you when we get back from dinner," he rumbled, quiet. Doggett's eyes gleamed with arousal, and Byers held his breath as he tried to will his cock not to leap in his lap. He didn't succeed.  
  
Byers waited for Doggett to begin eating before he picked up his fork and began taking samples of the antipasti onto his own plate. After tasting his salad and a few of the delicious tidbits, he looked back up at Doggett. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, trying to put as much seduction as he could into the quiet question.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore, would it?"  
  
"Well, not technically," Byers said. "But I'm sure the sensations would still be surprising."  
  
"Tell me, Johnny, did you ever have an urge to be a lawyer?" Doggett smiled, amused.  
  
Byers and Doggett nibbled salad and antipasti and sipped at their wine as they talked. Byers laughed. "No. Just a bureaucrat."   
  
Doggett tilted his head and gave Byers a strange look. "Now there's one you don't hear every day."  
  
"I got better," Byers said. "Besides," he continued, "I know you have two degrees in Public Administration. Tell me how that's not supposed to be bureaucratic. Uh, Sir." Byers grinned.  
  
"Don't forget that I own you tonight," Doggett said, his voice low and dangerously sensual. "I may just decide to leave out some things that I know you'll like, you keep talkin' like that." There was a look of distinct and devastating intent on his face.   
  
Byers leaned back in his chair and swallowed nervously. "Yes, Sir," he said. His pulse raced, wishing Doggett's hands were on him, wanting the man's mouth on his. Even though he knew it was an idle threat at this point, he didn't want to take a chance on stepping over any lines, as he had at lunch on Friday.  
  
Doggett smiled at Byers and they ate quietly, digging into the Scampi when it arrived.  
  
Doggett's dominance satisfied something deep in Byers. The way Doggett had claimed him with his words and his kiss before they left for dinner stirred Byers in more than just a physical way. It was as though Doggett had known and understood what he needed to hear, what made him feel wanted and secure. Their time together pushed at the boundaries of Byers' paranoia. He wondered again what it would feel like to be able to trust Doggett as he trusted his two dearest friends. Would Doggett understand how deep and significant such an act would be? The man threw the word around as though it had little genuine meaning for him.  
  
For Byers, trust was a matter of life and death. Trusting the wrong person could kill him. Opening himself that way was a far greater vulnerability than being naked, or giving himself sexually. It wasn't even so much that giving his trust meant he was willing to risk himself; he'd done so willingly for total strangers on more than one occasion. Trust, for Byers, was a matter of willingness to put his life and safety into the hands of another. It was a willingness to let the one he trusted see the truth of his pain and the suffering that had been part of his life for so long. Trust was a willingness to give the trusted one everything that he was, and still believe that he would not be deliberately hurt or abandoned.  
  
Byers didn't even truly trust Mulder or Scully, though he'd known them for years. Their positions and the risks of their work meant that betrayal always stood on the edge of the shadows. Though Mulder was medically retired now, his insatiable curiosity and his obsessions kept him too close to the shadows for comfort. Mulder was, in fact, the last person Byers would want to call if he needed to be bailed out of jail; he had no guarantees that Mulder wouldn't be distracted by something five minutes later and leave him there for a week.  
  
Byers could almost trust Jimmy now, knowing that the golden retriever of a man would never deliberately hurt a friend in any way. Doggett's work, though, was like Scully's -- how could he ever be sure that the conspirators wouldn't turn Doggett into something... not human?  
  
Then again, how did he know that Frohike or Langly wouldn't come home some day as shells of themselves, harboring something evil? Would their eyes be awash with the black oil, or their bodies filled with something even more insidious and deadly? He shuddered.  
  
Doggett's face flashed concern. "Johnny, are you all right?"  
  
Byers nodded. "I'm just thinking, Sir. Like I said, I worry too much." He looked up and met Doggett's ice blue eyes. They carried a dark hint of worry. Did the man genuinely care about him? Was he more to Doggett than just a convenient, fuckable body? Considering what Doggett had said of his history with other men, it was hard to tell. Byers rarely saw honest concern in anyone's eyes when they looked at him. It had gotten to the point where he simply didn't expect to see it any more.  
  
Doggett's hand slid across the table and he took Byers' hand. "Try to let it go for a while, okay? We can talk later, if you want." Doggett's grip was warm and solid. Byers squeezed and slid his hand away, unwilling to let anyone see something resembling public affection or a display of reassurance. The waitress at breakfast had convinced him that the closet was still the safest place.  
  
"I know this afternoon was pretty stressful for both of us," Doggett continued. "This is what my life is like. I know yours really isn't that much different."  
  
Byers nodded. "That's true. I generally try to avoid people with guns, though." He thought back to the times he'd been held at gunpoint, knowing it was likely to happen again. "It's not my idea of a good way to spend a vacation."  
  
"Mine either," Doggett said.  
  
Byers quieted again, eating more of his dinner and focusing on the flavors to take his mind off his anxieties. It was delicious, and he'd seen desserts on other tables, so he knew he wanted to try to leave room for something. Actually, if he didn't count the afternoon's little 'adventure,' it had been a really good day. He was also very much looking forward to discovering what lay in Doggett's imagination for him when they returned to the hotel. They didn't have to be up the next morning, so he hoped whatever it was would be exquisitely lengthy and drawn out. He wanted very much to lose himself in the physical and set aside the worries that plagued him.   
  
Much as he lived in it, Byers hated being anxious and paranoid. He really wished he could just stop and stand back from it, like Doggett seemed to. Then again, Doggett was a skeptic. Byers knew that Doggett wouldn't believe some of the situations he'd been in over the years. Hell, he'd been there and seen things with his own eyes that he barely believed. It really wasn't surprising that people thought he was crazy. When he got right down to it, he was probably just as much of a nut job as Mulder. Maybe more so. At least Mulder used to get paid for chasing ghosts and aliens. Byers did it out of some twisted sense of duty. There were days when he wondered if he had some deeply buried death wish hiding in him somewhere. Considering some of the stupid things he'd done over the years, he'd actually have to build a case against the argument.  
  
He chuckled humorlessly at his private ironies. Better to think about the leather around his cock and balls. Sitting back, he let himself feel it. He watched Doggett eating and thought about the man's broad, strong shoulders. He could picture Doggett nude, his defined muscles rippling as he moved. If he half-closed his eyes, he could almost feel Doggett's mouth on him, feel his Master's hands gliding up his sides, leather restraints on his wrists. He wanted it badly. The harness held him snugly as his shaft stirred, and he rumbled a quiet, decadent sigh.  
  
Doggett looked up and smiled. "Thinking about tonight?" he asked, keeping his voice low.  
  
Byers smiled back and nodded. "Oh, yeah."  
  
"Good. So am I." The smile broadened into a sly grin. "You're gonna be so sore tomorrow," he said.  
  
Byers shivered, delighted. "I can't wait."  
  
The waiter arrived again. "Would you gentlemen like dessert?" he asked. "We have a wide variety of delights for your palate. May I tell you about our specialties this evening?"  
  
Doggett turned his grin on the waiter. "No, that's okay. Tiramisu and coffee for both of us, please."  
  
"Certainly, sir. An excellent choice." The young man took their plates and spirited them away.  
  
Byers closed his eyes and sighed happily. "That sounds really good," he said.  
  
"The best you can imagine," Doggett said.  
  
"I can imagine things a hell of a lot better than tiramisu right now," Byers said, giving Doggett a lascivious look.  
  
Doggett laughed. "Yeah, and you can wait for 'em, too. Tempting as it might be to spread you right here, I'd kinda like to be able to come back again."  
  
"Of course, Sir," Byers said. He bit his lip at the image Doggett had created in his mind. More threats to bend him over a table. He wondered if Doggett had a thing for sex in dining rooms, and hoped they would explore the thought more thoroughly in private at some later date.  
  
The tiramisu and coffee arrived, just as delicious as Doggett had promised. Byers was convinced he could get high on the intensity of the perfectly balanced flavors. There was a strange, erotic undertone to the meal, and he wasn't sure if it was its decadent perfection or his own mood, but it warmed him to the core. By the time he finished, he felt he could almost float out of the restaurant; happy tongue, happy dick, happy stomach. He anticipated his body being even happier when they got back to the hotel.  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
NIGHT  
  
"Bring me the wrist restraints," Doggett said. His voice was rough and aggressive.   
  
"Yes, Sir." Byers shivered with anticipation as he took them from the bedside drawer. The padded black leather was soft and sensual in his hands.  
  
Doggett looked at him with dark, hooded eyes, and Byers could feel his Master's gaze burning into him. He handed the restraints to Doggett.  
  
"Turn around."  
  
Byers turned, and Doggett cuffed his wrists together, then turned him back to look in his eyes once again. Byers tugged against the restraints, heart beating hard and fast with his increasing arousal. His anticipation had been growing since they'd left the restaurant to return to the hotel, and he could tell that Doggett was excited.  
  
"You should see yourself, Johnny. You wouldn't believe how hot you look like this," Doggett said. He took Byers by one elbow and led him to the closet door, which was adorned with a full-length mirror. Byers let himself be turned to face the mirror.  
  
Doggett stood behind him; taller, older, far more muscular. His Master's light blue eyes were dark with heat and lust, and his hands were on Byers' shoulders, forcing him to face himself. The contrast of Doggett's deep sapphire shirt and dark grey suit against Byers' lighter suit and burgundy shirt was a study in hue and contrast.   
  
Byers' eyes scanned his own face and body. He'd never seen himself aroused before, and it surprised him. His face was flushed, his expression soft and intense, lips slightly parted. The suit he wore revealed more of his body than the casual jeans and short sleeved shirt he'd worn earlier in the day, though he was wearing more, and covered much more completely. He realized in that moment that exposure had little to do with the amount of flesh one showed. Instead, it was the cut of the clothing, the way it lay on the body's curves and planes. Though he had never considered himself a handsome man, looking like this, dressed this way, he could almost understand what Doggett might see in him -- at least as a sexual object.  
  
"Look at yourself," Doggett whispered. His hands slipped down Byers' arms from his shoulders, the followed the line of his waist to his hips.   
  
Byers watched as he felt Doggett's hands moving on him, the pace of his breath increasing. He could hear Doggett's breath quickening in his ear.  
  
"Do you see what I see when I look at you?" Doggett asked. He kissed Byers behind one ear, and Byers shivered, a cold silver wire burning down his spine into his bound cock and balls. Doggett's hands slid up Byers' chest, touching him light but firm, sensual without a trace of tickle.  
  
Their eyes met in the mirror, and Byers froze, holding his breath. Doggett pressed Byers back against his chest, and he could feel Doggett's pounding heart through their contact. His Master's hardness met his bound hands, hot and throbbing as Doggett's arms wrapped around him, and he gasped for air, panting hard.  
  
"Yeah, Johnny. You want that, don't you?" Doggett's voice lowered to a dangerous growl that rumbled through Byers' body. He pressed his hips closer, letting Byers touch.  
  
Byers caressed Doggett's shaft with his fingers, panting. "Yes, Sir." He watched in the mirror as Doggett's eyes narrowed.  
  
Doggett's hands moved down Byers' chest, slowly unbuttoning his jacket. When Doggett's fingers reached his waist, they curved down further, around Byers' hot, hard cock. Byers whimpered at the teasing touch and tried to arch into his Master's hands.  
  
"Don't move," Doggett whispered in his ear. "Just watch yourself in the mirror." The hiss of Doggett's breath in his ear sent a shudder down Byers' back. He watched, though instinct demanded he close his eyes and concentrate on the physical sensations.  
  
With a slow, torturously sensual movement, Doggett lowered Byers' zipper. Byers watched in heated fascination, panting, as his Master's hand slid into his pants. He could feel Doggett's warm fingers meeting the bound flesh of his leather-strapped shaft and balls.  
  
The sound Byers heard coming from his own throat was half purr, half baritone groan. Doggett slowly slid Byers' hard member out of his pants. The image of his swollen cock and balls buckled and clipped into the leather harness, pulsing as it stood high and dark from his fly, made Byers' knees weak. It was the kind of image he looked for on the net when he allowed himself time to indulge his private fantasies.  
  
"You are so beautiful, Johnny, so fuckable." Doggett traced a finger along Byers' throat, just barely touching his skin, and Byers shuddered.  
  
He watched Doggett's face near his own, his Master's darkened eyes burning into him. Byers could feel the pounding of his own heart and Doggett's as they stood, bodies touching. Sliding his bound hands along Doggett's pants, he found the zipper and tried to open it.  
  
"No," Doggett snapped, quiet. "You only get what I give you, when I'm ready to give it to you. You don't take. If you want something you ask, and I make the decisions." He slapped Byers' cock.  
  
"Aaah!" Byers jerked back into Doggett's body, reeling from the intertwined pain and pleasure shooting through his body. "Yes, Sir," he panted, "I'm sorry, Sir." Doggett knew he liked the sensation, and hadn't slapped him hard enough to cause more pain than he could handle. Byers felt himself getting harder as he steadied his balance. He whimpered with need and frustration. If he felt this hot and horny so early in the game, he was certain he was in for a night he would remember for a long time to come.  
  
"If you want cock, you have to beg for it, Johnny." Doggett's voice was stern.  
  
Byers' knees turned to water at the words and the sound of his Master's voice, and he slumped back into Doggett's arms. "Please, Sir," he whispered.  
  
"Please Sir, what?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers was panting, eyes half closed, still leaning against Doggett's chest. "I want to touch you, Sir. I want your cock. Please, let me touch you."  
  
Doggett slid a hand behind him, and he could hear the zipper being pulled down. "I'm not sure you want it enough. That wasn't very convincing."  
  
He could feel his Master moving behind him, pulling his hard shaft out of his pants. He wanted to touch, but kept his control. Byers' eyes closed and he let his head roll back onto Doggett's shoulder.  
  
"Please, Sir," he let his want into his voice, "I need it, Sir. I want to feel you. I want your cock in my hands. Let me touch you, Sir. Let me please you."  
  
Doggett chuckled in Byers' ear. "That's a little more convincing, but it's not good enough yet." Byers felt the head of Doggett's cock run along the tips of his fingers, the edges of his palms. It was hot and stiff and the skin was velvet soft. His fingers twitched and he ached to take it in his hands and stroke it.  
  
Byers let out a frustrated moan. "It's so hot, Sir. I love what you're doing. Please, Sir --" Byers' voice cracked, "please, I want it so much."  
  
Doggett ran the tip of his cock across Byers' motionless palm, slow and soft, as he slid two fingers across Byers' lips.  
  
"Ahhh..." Byers lips parted and the tip of his tongue met Doggett's fingertips.   
  
"That's sounding better, Johnny," Doggett said quietly. He slipped his fingers into Byers' mouth, and Byers licked them and began to suck. The slight salt of Doggett's skin tingled on Byers' tongue.  
  
"Mmmmm..." Byers tilted his head down toward Doggett's hand, sucking the length of both fingers into his mouth.  
  
Doggett's lips brushed Byers' left ear. "Look at yourself, Johnny. See how you look when you're sucking. Look at the expression on your face."  
  
Heart racing, Byers struggled to open his eyes, then looked into the mirror. The raw need in his face shocked him, but he was too busy sliding his tongue along Doggett's fingers to react visibly.  
  
Doggett slid his fingers from Byers' mouth.  
  
"Ah --" Byers reached for them with his lips, but Doggett kept them moving. He watched as Doggett's hand slowly moved down his body, not touching him. His eyes widened as Doggett's fingers drew close to his cock. The wet fingertips met the head of his cock, spreading the growing drop of pre-come that had been gathering there, threatening to slide down his shaft. Byers groaned and bucked up against Doggett's fingers, but his Master pulled back, keeping only a feather soft touch at the throbbing, sensitive tip of his flesh.  
  
Doggett traced tiny circles around the slit in the head of his shaft, and Byers wailed with frustration and pleasure. A hard pinch and Byers yelped. Doggett's hand moved away. Doggett touched the tips of his fingers with his tongue, tasting Byers' essence, and smiled.  
  
"I know you want it," Doggett said. "You always want it. You're such a slut for my rod, Johnny. You want to touch it. You want to suck it. You want it up your ass. You make me so hot." Doggett sucked at Byers' neck, teeth and tongue moving roughly on him.  
  
"Yes, Sir," Byers groaned. "I want it, I want all of it. Please, Sir..."  
  
Doggett pulled his mouth away and put his hands on Byers' shoulders. He moved and turned Byers then shoved him to his knees. "I'll give you a little of what you want."  
  
Byers found his nose nearly touching Doggett's hard, dark shaft. The scent of the man was hot, like burning musk. He took a deep breath, then looked up at his Master.  
  
Doggett pulled a condom from his pocket, tore the packet open, and held it before Byers. "Put it on me."  
  
Without a moment's hesitation, Byers took the proffered condom in his lips and began to position it on the tip of Doggett's thick rod. With lips and tongue, he slowly unrolled the condom, sliding it down the length of his Master's cock as Doggett hissed and moaned. Byers felt Doggett thrust forward, slow and strong, into his mouth as the condom unrolled under his tongue.  
  
Once he was sure the condom was secure, Byers began sucking in earnest, licking and massaging his Master's hot length with lips and tongue. He moaned as Doggett thrust slowly into his mouth, taking him in deeper with each stroke.  
  
As he caressed Doggett's cock with the length of his tongue, he noticed that he was positioned so that he could see what was happening in the mirror if he looked a bit off to one side. He wondered if Doggett had done this deliberately. Watching himself kneeling, wrists bound behind him, cock and balls bound and standing at attention before him, with Doggett's shaft in his mouth sent a bolt of incredible erotic fever through him. With a grunt, he opened himself and swallowed his Master's rod, his lips meeting Doggett's body.  
  
Doggett groaned, loud and sustained, then took Byers' hair in his hands and started fucking his mouth deep and fast. "God, Johnny! Take it!" Doggett's balls slapped his chin, and he had to fight to cope with the swift, aggressive thrusts. After a few strokes, Doggett regained control of his body and slowed to a more comfortable speed and intensity.   
  
Byers closed his eyes and gave Doggett's thick erection his absolute attention.  
  
"Oh, yeah..." Doggett said, panting. "Suck it, Johnny, take it deep." Doggett thrust a few more times, then pulled back and Byers caught his breath, gasping. "You're so good, you feel so good," Doggett said softly, then thrust his cock into Byers' mouth again, deep, sliding down his throat. Doggett muttered, "Love to fuck you like this." Byers growled from low in his chest, sending his Master into another spasm of fast, deep thrusts.  
  
Byers thought that if Doggett didn't withdraw soon, he'd come, but that was fine with him. He loved the way a shaft would throb in his mouth and throat when the moment of orgasm arrived, loved the frantic, uncontrolled sounds of someone coming because he gave them pleasure. There had been times when he'd come himself when he sucked another man, just from the sounds and the oral sensations.  
  
He wished he had his hands to work with, and struggled with the restraints around his wrists, pulling at the leather. The struggle itself felt good, and the sight of it seemed to set Doggett off even more, his pace and intensity picking up.  
  
"Nnngh, yeah. Oh, god, Johnny, fight it. Love it, oh god, love watching you like this, suck me..." Doggett's fingers tightened in his hair, and he pulled Byers' face closer as Byers suckled his Master's cock. He was running short on breath now, and squeezed, sucking deep and hard, pushing Doggett toward the edge as hard as he could.  
  
After two or three deep, staccato grunts, Doggett spoke again, nearly incoherent. "God, uhh, take it Johnny..." He panted hard, driving into Byers' mouth with short, sharp thrusts, then roared as he came.  
  
Byers backed off quickly, getting his Master's cock out of his throat, though Doggett was pulling at his hair. He needed air. After a few deep gasps, filling his lungs again and again, Byers sucked gently at the tip of Doggett's dick, enjoying the way the man was shuddering.  
  
Doggett sank to his knees in front of Byers and took his face in his hands. He was still breathing hard, but Byers could see his eyes were barely open. "Love how you do that," Doggett said, panting. "So beautiful." He took Byers' mouth with his own, kissing him deeply, and Byers slid his tongue along Doggett's, feeling the soft, ticklish caress of tender flesh.  
  
With a moan, Byers leaned forward slightly, his body begging silently for contact. His bound cock was throbbing hard, the pressure of the leather straps becoming almost painful with an erotic intensity he loved. He wanted to rub himself against Doggett's body, their cocks meeting, hot and slick. He wanted Doggett's hands on him, exploring his body through the silk he wore under his suit. Byers wanted to be touched everywhere with an intensity that made him shake. He struggled with the wrist restraints that kept his hands behind him, even as he wanted and needed the feeling of helplessness they brought.  
  
As he struggled, Doggett wrapped his arms around him, enveloping him in warmth and strength. Edging closer, Doggett pulled their bodies together then rested his chin on Byers' shoulder. They both knelt, motionless, relishing the solid contact. Byers rubbed his cheek against Doggett's.  
  
"Please, Sir," he whispered, "I want more."  
  
"Don't worry, Johnny," Doggett said quietly, "we're nowhere near done yet." He ran his hands down Byers' back, stopping to caress his waist, then sliding them down to hold the curves of Byers' ass in his palms. "You were so good. You gave me just what I wanted."  
  
Byers bit his lip and whimpered.  
  
"Patience," Doggett said. He looked into Byers' eyes, intense. "I know you want what I have planned for you. I'll give you things you need. I'll push you over the edge."   
  
Byers shook, his heart hammering. Everything that Doggett had done to him, done with him since their first time together, had been good. "What will you do, Sir?"  
  
"Be patient. You'll see." Doggett stood, then slid his hands under Byers' arms and helped him stand. Byers' knees were slightly wobbly, but Doggett let him lean as they walked over to the bed. "Lie down and rest," Doggett said. "I've gotta do something. Just close your eyes and wait for me."  
  
"Yes, Sir." Byers lay on the bed on his side and closed his eyes. He could hear Doggett moving around the room, getting things out, shuffling things around, opening and closing a door. There was the scratch of a match and a momentary scent of sulfur. He wondered what was happening, what kinds of things his Master had planned for him. Lying there not knowing what Doggett was doing filled him with anticipation.  
  
There was silence for a few minutes, and Byers turned his head without opening his eyes, trying to locate Doggett in the room. He rolled slightly, turning his body for a more accurate idea of what was going on around him, but heard nothing. He hadn't been told not to move, simply to lie down, close his eyes, and wait for his Master. His cock was still hard, as the harness was tight enough to keep him from losing his erection, though some of the urgency of his arousal had faded. He felt good, but very curious.  
  
The sound of Doggett's voice close to his ear startled him. "Now you get your reward for making me come like that." The bed shifted as Doggett leaned in and traced the tip of his tongue along the inner curve of Byers' ear.  
  
Byers shivered and gasped as his Master backed away. He could feel Doggett untying his shoes, then slipping them off his feet. The socks went next, and Doggett's warm hands rubbed each foot for a moment. It was soothing and erotic at the same time. A shudder tingled its way up his body as Doggett's fingers traced the insides of his legs from ankles to the angles of his inner thighs, moving softly, almost tickling through the cloth. He writhed at the touch, groaning.  
  
"Relax, Johnny," Doggett said. "Let yourself enjoy it." Byers felt Doggett's weight shift the mattress again, as the man positioned himself between Byers' legs. There was a ghost of presence near Byers' shaft, and then soft, warm breath surrounding it.  
  
"Yes," Byers moaned quietly. He shifted his hips blindly toward the source of the breath, but Doggett's hands held him down by his hips.  
  
"Relax," Doggett said again. "Don't move. Just let it happen."  
  
When Doggett's soft warm lips kissed the tip of Byers' cock, he gasped, and Doggett held him down. A hot, wet tongue caressed his head, sliding gently along the slit. He moaned again, loudly, now hard as marble. The harness around him held him tight, amplifying every sensation.   
  
"I love the way you taste, Johnny."  
  
Byers spoke softly, pleading. "Please, Sir, suck me." He licked his lips, dick aching with need, his balls tight in their restraints.  
  
"No, Johnny. Just this for right now. I have other plans for you."   
  
He could feel Doggett move, then there was an arm behind his back, a hand supporting his head, and he was raised to a partial sitting position. A glass touched his lips and he sipped. The water was cool, with a tiny hint of lemon in it. Byers suddenly realized how dry his mouth had become, and drank eagerly. Held like this, the glass at his lips, he felt oddly out of place but cared for. There was an incredible feeling of gentleness to the situation, and the man who held him.  
  
When the glass was taken from his lips, an odd image struck him. "Share water," he whispered to himself, remembering an old science fiction novel.  
  
"Never thirst." Doggett's voice was soft, almost inaudible in his ear. Before Byers could say anything, Doggett's lips met his and they kissed. It was soft and passionate at the same time. When Doggett broke the kiss, Byers opened his eyes slightly and looked at his Master in the room's dim, flickering light.  
  
"I never knew y --"  
  
"Hush. Talk later. Keep your eyes closed, or would it be easier if I blindfolded you for a while?"  
  
Byers closed his eyes. "Blindfold me, Sir," he said. It would remove the temptation for him to look until Doggett decided it was time for him to see again. Doggett eased him back onto the bed, got up, and returned a moment later. A softly lined blindfold that smelled of leather was placed over his eyes and fastened at the back of his head.  
  
Doggett's hands were at his waist again, and he could feel his belt being unbuckled, his pants unbuttoned. There was a tug, and Byers raised his hips to let Doggett pull his pants down. The cloth slid down his legs and over his bare feet. He heard them hit the rug with a soft chuff. Warm hands trailed up his legs, teasing against the grain of the rough hair along the outside of his calves and thighs.  
  
"Mmmmm..."  
  
"How do you feel, Johnny?" Doggett's hands slid along his flesh, trailing to the sensitive insides of his thighs. A moment later, warm breath touched his skin, followed by Doggett's lips and tongue.  
  
"Ohhhhhh," Byers panted, "oh, feels good, Sir." The weight of his body was on his arms and hands. He knew it would get uncomfortable if he stayed that way for long, but his Master's mouth on him was a sensual delight.  
  
Doggett's mouth moved away from his legs, and Byers whimpered, until he felt a soft, wet tongue licking the tip of his cock again. He groaned softly and arched his hips upward.  
  
"Little slut," Doggett said, his lips barely brushing where his tongue had just been. "You just can't wait, can you?"  
  
Byers squirmed, raising a knee, and Doggett's hand slid down the back of his thigh to cup one cheek of his ass. "Love how this silk feels on you," Doggett growled, running his hand softly along the curve of Byers' ass through his boxers. Byers sighed at the caress, his body heated and aroused. Doggett's other hand slid down to join the first, lifting his hips gently then sliding up to his waist. With a swift, careful movement, Doggett pulled at the waistband of Byers' boxers and started sliding them off.  
  
Byers cooperated, hoping Doggett would touch and kiss his bare skin as the soft, slippery fabric moved down his legs. Suddenly, without a word, Doggett flipped Byers over onto his stomach and finished pulling the boxers off.  
  
"Uhh, yes!" Byers spread his legs. Doggett's hands were on his ass again, caressing his cheeks, running short, blunt fingernails over Byers' sensitive skin. It felt good. The next thing he knew, a pillow was being tucked under his hips, his bound shaft buried in the soft cool cushion. He gave a satisfied, horny sigh.  
  
Byers heard a shuffling, then felt cool leather being buckled around his ankles. He gave a soft gasp and whimpered. Was Doggett going to spread him on the bed and tie him down? He hoped so.  
  
Doggett's hands spread his legs further, stroking his inner thighs. Byers could hear Doggett's breathing speeding up. A few moments later, Doggett's fingers trailed along his tight balls, then tickled softly up the crack of his ass.  
  
"Ahhhhh..." He was so hard, so ready for Doggett to fuck him. "Please, Sir," he moaned, "I want your cock in me."  
  
Doggett chuckled. "We're nowhere near that yet, Johnny. There's so much more to come before I slide my rod into you. But I'm gonna love it when I'm ready to take you." Doggett's voice was low, almost a growl. He slid the tip of a finger over Byers' anus, pausing for a moment to push in gently without penetrating.  
  
Byers whimpered and wriggled under Doggett. "Oh, god."  
  
Before Byers knew what was happening, Doggett's mouth was on the curve of his ass, biting and sucking, and Byers moaned, deep and throaty. Doggett's fingers separated the mounds of muscle. He panted hard as Doggett's tongue slid along his skin and down between his cheeks to find the soft, sensitive skin of his opening.  
  
Byers gasped. "Unh, unh, yeah, unh..." Doggett's tongue licked and prodded him, hot and wet and so soft. He tried to buck back into Doggett's mouth, but his Master had spread his legs too wide for him to get any leverage. He could feel Doggett's tongue dipping into him, penetrating him. His bound shaft was twitching hard. Though he was close to orgasm, the harness was so tight around his swollen dick now that he couldn't come. It was agonizing and blissful and he was falling hard into his most submissive space, losing himself to his Master's power.  
  
Doggett raised his mouth. "You're beautiful, Johnny. I wish you could see yourself. You're so hot." He slid one finger into Byers' tight ass and Byers cried out, incoherent. Doggett worked his ass slowly with the finger, driving Byers wild with desire.   
  
"Unh, god, more," Byers begged.  
  
Doggett's finger slid out of him. There wasn't time for Byers to anticipate Doggett's next move before a stinging slap landed on his ass.  
  
"Ahhh!"  
  
Another slap landed, then another, and Byers' hips jerked. He wanted it, wanted the pain and the pleasure. "Yes, unh, yes..." He was gasping, Doggett's hands leaving burning places on his ass. Doggett slid his finger back into Byers.   
  
Byers fought against the restraints around his wrists, struggling hard, shouting. He needed to move, needed to give in to the unbearable urge to pump his hips, to slam his hard shaft into something and fuck, to impale himself on his Master's rod and let the man take him until he screamed.  
  
Suddenly, Doggett's full weight was on him, pressing down over his entire body, finger no longer in him. "Slow down, take it easy." The voice was quiet and soothing in his ear. The larger man's weight stilled him, and he gasped and panted, trying to catch his breath. "Hush, Johnny, hush."  
  
Byers felt Doggett's kisses on his cheek and neck.   
  
"Lie still for me, okay?"  
  
Byers nodded, no longer struggling, but trying to catch his breath. His ass stung from Doggett's blows.  
  
"I'm gonna stand you up. I want you to stay where I put you, and don't move from that position until I move you again. Do you understand?"  
  
Byers nodded again. "Yes, Sir," he said, still panting. His head was swimming, and he felt like his whole body was vibrating, barely under his control. His body ached exquisitely with desire and frustration.  
  
Doggett slipped his arms around Byers' chest and slid him back along the bed, then pulled him to a kneeling position. "Okay, step back. Be careful."  
  
Byers slid one foot to the floor, then the other, his legs shaking. Doggett's arms were still around him, and he leaned back into his Master's body with a relieved sigh. He could feel Doggett's hot, hard rod against his ass and rubbed against it.  
  
"Wait for that, Johnny. Just hold still." Doggett's hands slipped to his throat, loosening Byers' tie. He leaned his head back against Doggett's shoulder, letting himself feel his Master's fingers moving. When the tie was unknotted, Doggett began unbuttoning Byers' shirt, teasing Byers' skin with his fingertips as he loosed each button.  
  
Byers' head rolled to one side, his cheek meeting the warm skin of Doggett's neck and jaw. He kissed his Master softly. "Please, Sir, I need to be fucked."  
  
"I'll give it to you when I'm ready," Doggett said. His hands moved over Byers' naked chest, stroking and caressing him. Byers sighed happily, his cock aching as it twitched in its harness. Doggett played with his nipples, rolling them in his fingers, then squeezing and pinching them hard, pulling them sharply.  
  
"Ahhhhhhhh..." Byers arched back against Doggett's chest, panting again, his head thrashing back and forth on Doggett's shoulder.   
  
Doggett wrapped him tightly in his arms and pressed his hard rod against Byers' ass. "You want it bad, don't you?" he said. "You want me in you up to my balls."  
  
Byers whimpered and nodded.  
  
"You want me to fuck you until you can't feel anything but my hard rod slamming into you and my balls slapping on yours." Doggett was growling into his ear, thrusting up along the crack of Byers' ass.  
  
"Yes Sir, oh god please, fuck me now, I want it so bad, want you, take me, fuck me..." Byers knew he was babbling, but didn't care.   
  
Doggett's hand slid down his body, brushing softly over his stomach then caressing Byers' straining, throbbing shaft. The tips of his fingers stroked Byers' balls and Byers moaned.  
  
"Please..."  
  
"Not yet."  
  
Byers groaned, disappointed and desperate.  
  
"I'm gonna separate the restraints on you to take the rest of your clothes off. Don't move."  
  
Byers nodded, saying nothing, still leaning back against Doggett's body. He could feel his Master's hands at his wrists and heard a clip open and close. His hands hung free behind him, but he didn't move them. Doggett took his shoulders and eased him forward slightly, then slid the suit jacket and the silk shirt down his arms and off his body. Tossing them aside, he let Byers lean on him again.  
  
"Come with me." Doggett led him slowly across the room by his shoulder. He was startled when his back gently touched the cold, flat expanse of a door. "Hands above your head," Doggett ordered.  
  
Byers raised his hands. Doggett took first one wrist, then the other, and clipped them to something so they were spread out over his head. With a gentle nudge, Doggett tapped at Byers' ankles with one foot. "Spread 'em."  
  
Again, Byers complied, and the leather restraints around his ankles were similarly secured. He was bound, spread eagle, to the door. He tugged against the restraints, but they were tight and there was no give. He couldn't move. His heart raced with fear and anticipation.  
  
"It's not the cross," Doggett said, "but it'll do. Prepare yourself, Johnny. You're about to have a taste of what you want."  
  
Byers didn't think his dick could get any harder, but Doggett's words sent a cold thrill through his body. "Yes," he groaned. He could picture the man he'd seen on the cross yesterday, then saw himself there. He could still see the floggers striking in his mind's eye, hear the slap of leather on flesh.  
  
"Hit me, Sir," he whispered. "I want to feel it."  
  
Doggett's fingers touched his chest gently, and Byers flinched, expecting a sharp blow. "Uh..."  
  
"You're not ready yet," Doggett said. "You need to be prepared for it." His Master's hands roamed sensually across his body, sometimes tickling, sometimes scratching. Byers could feel Doggett's fingernails scrape across his nipples, and groaned in response. Doggett's lips closed over one fleshy peak, sucking, then biting.  
  
"Unnnh." Byers relaxed as much as he could into the bondage. He could feel the pull along his arms and into his shoulders as his wrists took some of his weight. Doggett was licking and nibbling his way down Byers' stomach. He felt helpless and vulnerable, knowing that Doggett could do anything to him and he'd be unable to resist. It was terrifying, but he was filled with a familiar sensual rush, like the one he'd felt the first time Doggett had tied Byers to his own bed. He could feel himself starting to float, dizzy in his arousal, knowing the best was coming. Unable to stay silent, he made small, animal sounds of fear and pleasure.  
  
Doggett's hands moved over him, touching Byers everywhere. The tips of Doggett's fingers trailed, almost tickling, along Byers' arms and legs, along his sides, up his chest to his throat, even over his face. Byers moaned and tried to move, but couldn't, as Doggett's nails scratched him all over his chest and sides.  
  
Soon, hands and fingers were joined by a new sensation. "This is the flogger, Johnny. Feel the strands move over you."   
  
Byers panted and groaned as Doggett brushed them along his chest, slow and soft at first, then picking up speed and force a little at a time.  
  
"You like how this feels, don't you?" Doggett asked. The strands began slapping at him gently, moving down his chest from just above his nipples.  
  
"Yes Sir, please Sir, ahhhhhh..." He was slapped again, harder this time, along the center of his chest. "Oh, god." It was amazing. Byers groaned and begged for more as the blows got progressively harder. The flogger struck him solidly, thudding against his ribs, leaving a hot, stinging feeling behind. "Unh, yes, ahhh."  
  
"You're gorgeous like this, Johnny. You should see yourself. You look so beautiful spread like this, your cock all hard, those stripes on your skin." Doggett's voice was low, filled with desire. He spaced the blows expertly, leaving every inch of Byers' chest stinging. "Makes me want to fuck you. Makes me want to take you right here, just like this."  
  
"More, Sir, please..." Byers begged. He was lost in the sensations, craving the sting, and when Doggett switched the blows from his chest to his thighs, Byers moaned and grunted wordlessly. He wanted to feel the sting everywhere, wanted it along his back, over his ass, on the backs of his legs. "Please, Sir!"   
  
"God, I love to hear you beg, Johnny." Another blow fell on Byers' chest. Doggett was rumbling and growling as he spoke. "You're mine. I'm gonna fuck you so deep when I'm done with you." He struck Byers again. Byers thought that if the harness around his cock and balls was looser, he could come from this sensation. He was throbbing hard in the leather, and could feel his shaft jumping with each new blow.  
  
"Yes," Byers gasped. "God, yes." When no new blow hit, Byers was confused. "Please, Sir, please, again..."  
  
Doggett's voice was close when he replied. "We're gonna turn you around now, Johnny. You're not ready to take too much of this at once."  
  
"Want more," Byers groaned.  
  
Doggett's mouth took his, and they kissed hard. Doggett's hands skimmed over Byers' stinging skin, but his hands -- it was fur, Byers realized. His Master was soothing his burning skin with an unimaginable softness. He was trembling as he groaned into Doggett's kiss. His Master caressed him with the fur until Byers lost track of everything but the softness on his flesh. The contrast and combination of pain and pleasure left him disoriented. In this state, Byers realized he'd been cast over the edge and into the abyss and never even noticed. Though he could hear and feel everything, he was connected to his body by the thinnest of threads. He was in heaven.  
  
Doggett moved one hand, fiddling with the restraints, then Byers' hands were free. He broke the kiss, holding Byers' hands together with one of his own. He released Byers' ankles and turned him to face the door.  
  
"Spread, Johnny." Byers held his hands and feet apart, leaning his chest into the door. The cool wood was soothing on his heated skin. He felt Doggett bind him again and back away.  
  
Again he felt Doggett's mouth and teeth on him, his Master's hands and the scratch of his nails. The flogger played across his back, soft at first, then harder as Byers moaned and cried out, begging for more. Doggett moved the sharp blows from his back to the flesh of his ass, down to his thighs, and back up again, giving Byers pain and pleasure in an intensity he had only fantasized before.  
  
"Please, more," he begged, his whole body burning with the erotic rush. "Harder, Sir."  
  
Several more blows fell, then Doggett stopped again. Byers thought his Master had finished, but he wanted more. "Please, Sir, please don't stop."  
  
He felt Doggett's cool hand on his burning ass. "I'm not quite done yet. You can take a little more here than on your chest. I'm going to use the belt on you."  
  
Byers slumped slightly, whimpering, "Yes, yes, yes..."  
  
The next blow was harder and much more focused than the flogger's strands, leaving a sharp line of fire across Byers' ass.  
  
"Ahhhhh!" Byers was so far gone now that he was flying. He never wanted to go back. His body begged to live in this state of burning ecstasy. Another blow flamed across his ass, then a third and a fourth. "God, unh, more, oh god, please..."  
  
"It's enough," Doggett whispered in his ear.  
  
"No, please, oh god don't stop," Byers begged.  
  
"You've had enough," Doggett said again, and the softness of the fur returned, soothing the fire in his muscles. "I'm going to take you now."  
  
"Yes," Byers whimpered.  
  
When Doggett released him from his bondage, ankles first, then wrists, Byers slumped, unable to stand. Doggett caught him, then carried him to the bed. His Master lay him down carefully. Byers could feel him loosening the straps of the harness.  
  
"No," Byers whined. "Not yet."  
  
"If I loosen it, you'll be able to come when I fuck you. It'll be intense," Doggett said. "It'll be the best thing you ever felt. After that, I'll take it off you. Your body needs to rest soon."  
  
"More," Byers pleaded.  
  
Doggett rolled Byers onto his stomach. There were slicked fingers at Byers' ass, then the tip of Doggett's thick shaft touching him. "Do you want me to fuck you?"  
  
Byers groaned. "God, please, Sir."  
  
"I bet you'd love to have Sergio watching this," Doggett said, pushing slow and hard into Byers' body. "Watching me take you, watching me claim you as mine."  
  
"Ahhhhh! Yes, yes!" Byers shouted, "god, Sir, yes!" The thought of Brentali watching Doggett do this to him -- tease him, beat him, fuck him -- cracked Byers open, and he came, screaming.   
  
Doggett's rod kept pumping into him, slowly and mercilessly. "You love it, don't you Johnny. You want to be my slut. You wish you could have this all the time, don't you?"  
  
"Ahh, ahhh, oh god, yes Master, god..." Byers gasped, still coming, "fuck me Master, please!"  
  
"Say it again," Doggett groaned, thrusting faster and harder. "Say it!"  
  
"Please Master, god, fuck me Master!"  
  
"Yes," Doggett shouted, slamming into Byers. "You're mine, Johnny, mine! Aaaaaah! Aaaah!"   
  
Byers could feel Doggett coming inside him, plowing into him hard and fast, almost violent in his passion. They thrashed on the bed together, crying out, Byers in ecstatic flight, Doggett pumping him intensely in the throes of his own orgasm.  
  
Finally, exhausted, Byers went limp. He was gasping hard, as though he'd been running for hours. Doggett slowed, then lay quiet on Byers' back, his chest heaving.  
  
Sweaty, sore, and aching, but sated, Byers drifted. He was aware of Doggett slipping slowly and carefully out of him, leaving his ass sore. He was too exhausted to move as Doggett rolled him to his back and removed the harness from his cock and balls, gently massaging them to ease them.  
  
Doggett left for a few minutes, and when he returned, he slipped the blindfold from Byers' eyes. Byers sighed, then blinked, letting the dim light in. Doggett's face was close in front of his. His Master's eyes were soft and gentle. Leaning in, he kissed Byers.  
  
"Your service is over for the night," he whispered. "You are your own man."  
  
Byers nodded, still unable to speak from exhaustion.  
  
Doggett cleaned him, then helped him into bed, pulling the covers over him. "You were incredible," Doggett whispered. He traced Byers' jaw with his fingertips, soft and slow. "You have no idea how good you were."  
  
A faint smile curved Byers' lips as he closed his eyes. He was asleep before Doggett slid into bed with him.  
  
~~end chapter 2 of 4~~ 


	3. Sunday

WK2: Armani Weekend  
Chapter 3: Sunday  
  
(Disclaimers in Chapter 1)  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
SUNDAY MORNING  
  
Doggett ran a lazy hand down Byers' back. Most of the redness had gone, leaving only a stripe or two on Byers' ass where he'd used the belt on him.   
  
Even though it was morning, the heat of the New York summer had started up in earnest, and he'd forgotten to turn on the room's air conditioning the night before. The heat in the room as morning had broken meant that both of them had kicked the covers away before Doggett had awakened, and Byers was lying on the bed, nude and exposed. Just before Doggett had gone to bed last night, he'd called the hotel desk to have their suits picked up, cleaned and pressed, and delivered back to their room before noon.  
  
Doggett knew that Byers would sleep late this morning, as he'd been exhausted after their play last night, and fallen asleep quickly. Byers would still be sore, but that soreness would probably be gone by the time they were back in D.C. He'd held back with the flogger and the belt, even though Byers had begged for more, and for harder blows. A massage and a hot shower would help him cope with the lingering ache, and Doggett had aspirin for him as well, if it was needed.  
  
Byers stirred under Doggett's hand and made a soft grumbly noise, but didn't wake. His face was partly buried in his pillow, hair rumpled, muscles relaxed. Doggett considered waking him, but didn't. He was enjoying simply looking at him; his dark lashes a handsome contrast to his pale skin, those warm, soft lips slightly open, the little mole on Byers' cheek that gave his face character, the slow pulse beating at his throat. He let his hand trail up from Byers' shoulder to brush away the errant chestnut bangs from the man's face. Byers was usually so serious, so neat and orderly -- hair perfectly done, clothing just so -- seeing him relaxed and unguarded like this was a delight. Asleep, Byers' youthful appearance seemed even more so.  
  
Doggett smiled to himself, pleased. He was glad he'd brought Byers along, and very pleased with how things had been going. Byers was good company, and the sex had been powerful and satisfying. The reality of Byers in that Armani, sucking him off, had been everything he'd hoped for and more. His sub's willingness and desire had left Doggett's knees weak. The man really was gorgeous dressed like that, in the heat of passion.  
  
Byers' eyes fluttered open, then squeezed shut as he moaned.  
  
"Still sore?" Doggett asked.  
  
"Mmm-hmm," Byers replied.  
  
"Where?"  
  
"My ass," Byers mumbled, barely audible. "Shoulders and back."  
  
"How's your chest?"  
  
Byers didn't reply for a moment, obviously assessing himself. "Seems okay," he said eventually.  
  
Doggett caressed his face, and Byers snuggled his cheek into Doggett's hand.   
  
"I brought stuff to give you a massage if you want. Got some oil to sooth the aches down some. It'll help, and then when we shower, you can wash the oil off."  
  
Byers nodded.  
  
"It's got a little scent to it, but nothing real strong," Doggett said. "Just a little light musk and a tiny bit of patchouli. No girly smells." He fished around in the bedside drawer until he found the small plastic squeeze bottle. Opening it, he held it near Byers' nose.  
  
Byers took a small sniff. "Smells good," he said. He opened his eyes again, less strain showing around them. "Do you have aspirin? I hurt; my shoulders are stiff."  
  
"Yeah, hang on a sec." Doggett rose from the bed and padded to the bathroom. He relieved himself and then brought a glass of water back to Byers, along with two aspirin.   
  
Byers was sitting up in the bed when he returned, and Doggett handed the glass and the pills to him. Byers took the pills and drank the entire glass of water. "Still thirsty," he muttered, obviously still half asleep.  
  
"Go get some more water and take a piss, then come back and I'll do that massage for you. You'll need to stretch afterwards, while we're in the shower. It'll help you loosen up, "  
  
Byers nodded and headed for the bathroom. Doggett watched as the man walked, noting his stiff movements. He'd probably need to work on Byers for about half an hour or so to get out most of the kinks and soothe his aches, and by that time, the aspirin would be kicking in. He'd make sure Byers carried more aspirin in his pocket for later in the day.  
  
While Byers was in the bathroom, Doggett called down to room service to have breakfast sent up. He remembered what Byers had ordered the day before, and simply requested a repeat of yesterdays' breakfasts for both of them, sans Brentali's company and the surly waitress. The staff would have breakfast ready and delivered about the time he was done working on Byers' sore muscles.  
  
Byers returned and collapsed face down on the bed with a groan.   
  
"You ready?" Doggett asked.  
  
"Mmm," Byers mumbled, nodding.  
  
Doggett squirted out some oil into his palm, then rubbed his hands together to warm it. Laying them on Byers' shoulders, he started spreading it smoothly over his sub's back, shoulders and sides, adding more oil as he needed it, so his hands would slide effortlessly over Byers' skin. Byers sighed and relaxed into the slowly deepening strokes, breathing deeply.   
  
The long movements of giving the massage felt good, and Doggett stretched himself into them, leaning his weight into Byers' hips and up his back. He enjoyed doing this, feeling the slick, oiled skin and muscles under his palms, his legs open to straddle Byers' body. Byers was making low, quiet, happy sounds, along with the occasional yip or hiss as Doggett struck a particularly sore spot. Working his way along, Doggett kneaded and twisted Byers' arms and shoulders, loosening them and working the heels of his hands or the balls of his thumbs into tight places, using his knuckles and the tips of his fingers to get into knots and ease them.  
  
The pain in Byers' face faded as he melted into a puddle of warm, pliant flesh under Doggett's gentle, experienced hands. The aspirin was probably starting to work too, Doggett thought. Byers was nearly purring. It was a sound Doggett liked very much. It was, in fact, a sound that was stirring his groin, but he doubted that Byers would really be ready for that after what he'd taken last night. He'd pounded into Byers really hard toward the end, and knew that if he'd been fucked that hard, he wouldn't want anything even remotely dick-like near his ass for most of the next day. They'd have to settle for other forms of pleasure, though this wasn't exactly a hardship.  
  
Doggett leaned down and kissed Byers' neck, and the slender man sighed and smiled. The oil on Byers' skin smelled great -- rich and masculine, almost unbearably sensual. He was about to move to Byers' ear when there was a knock at the door. Byers startled.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"It's okay," Doggett said, kissing his ear quickly. "It's just breakfast. Stay there, I'll bring it in." Doggett rose and tossed a robe on, then went to answer the door. Room service wheeled the cart in and left it in the living room, departing quickly and discreetly.   
  
Doggett pulled one of the lap trays from the cart and put their food on it, then carried everything into the bedroom. "Okay, sunshine," Doggett said, setting the tray down next to Byers, "roll your ass over. It's breakfast." Doggett sat on the bed with him and poured coffee as Byers stretched and rolled over onto his side.  
  
"Looks good," Byers said. "Smells good."  
  
"You about ready for full sentences yet?"  
  
Byers shook his head, picking up his fork. "No. Massage good. Hungry. Coffee," he grunted, eyes alight.  
  
Doggett laughed. "You must be feelin' better."  
  
"Yeah. The massage really helped, and I think the aspirin kicked in too, because I'm not nearly as stiff and achy as I was when I first woke up." Byers got up on one elbow and took his coffee, sipping it, then sighing. "Ahhh. Feel the power of the caffeine." He smiled.  
  
"You look like you feel better."  
  
Byers nodded. "Where did you learn to do that? The massage, I mean."  
  
Doggett shrugged, taking a couple of bites of his eggs. "A guy I was seeing for a while. Was a medic, then studied massage when he got outta the service. Said Somalia messed with his head so much that he just really needed to do something that didn't hurt people."  
  
"I think I could understand that," Byers said. "You do it well."  
  
"Turned out to be a real useful skill. I'm gonna teach you how to do it too, that way you can do it for me." He looked at Byers, wondering what his response would be.  
  
Byers looked up at Doggett and smiled, a pleased expression on his face. "That sounds like a great idea."  
  
Doggett grinned back at him. "Of course it is." He chuckled. "We'll need to find somebody for me to demonstrate on, though, so you can see what I'm doing."  
  
Byers smirked. "I doubt that'll be too hard. I suspect Ringo wouldn't mind being a guinea pig."  
  
"Ringo?" Doggett was confused.  
  
"Oh, sorry. Langly. He goes by Ringo usually. He's never much cared for being called Richard." Byers sipped his coffee again. "Then again, I think he'll be really surprised when I tell him who's going to be teaching me. Of course, he'll probably decide he should learn it so he can use it on Skinner."  
  
Doggett nodded. "Wouldn't surprise me. Those two have gotta be the oddest couple I've ever laid eyes on."  
  
"Isn't that the truth." Byers sighed. "I think Mel and I both about passed out when we found out about it. Frohike hassled him mercilessly for weeks -- Lord Manhammer and the Great Bear." He chuckled and shook his head.  
  
"Lord Manhammer? What kinda stupid crap of a name is that?"  
  
Byers started laughing. "It's his D&D character, believe it or not. He's been playing the same damned character in the same game with most of the same gaming buddies since before I met him. I think last time I heard, they'd become some deific pantheon and were out trying to solve the problem of the ultimate elimination of evil or something."  
  
Doggett couldn't help but laugh as well. "Jesus, Langly as some kinda god. That is so wrong. Doesn't that beat all."  
  
"All but Skinner," Byers said, a wry grin on his face. "Ringo says that Walter can be really rough on him sometimes, but they both seem to like it." A moment of something that might have been regret ghosted over Byers' face, but it was gone so fast that Doggett wasn't sure he'd even seen it. "Skinner's all about being the boss."  
  
"Tell me about it," Doggett grumbled. "He's been on my ass lately about being more careful with this whole supersoldier investigation. I'm surprised he hasn't asked me to drop it entirely."  
  
"What's been happening with that lately?"  
  
"Last week, me and Monica found some really weird assed evidence." Doggett sighed and shook his head. "Looked like... jeez, like some kinda metal vertebra. We hauled it in for safekeeping, and were gonna have Scully look at it the next morning, but it was gone. No evidence of a B and E, no prints, no nothing. It's like the damned thing never existed."  
  
"You should probably get used to that sort of thing," Byers said, looking troubled. "Mulder and Scully's evidence was constantly disappearing into the system or being stolen or destroyed. God only knows what happened to most of it. And then there was the office fire. The guys and I spent months working to recover fragments of the files, doing our best to piece things together from what was left in the file cabinets, and the stuff we'd collected in helping them out over the years. It was a tremendous loss, and a devastating blow to their work." He nibbled at his breakfast.  
  
Byers paused, then looked into Doggett's eyes. "I know that you don't believe a lot of what they found, but I can tell you that the danger surrounding the Files is very real. This isn't like anything you've ever done before, Jack." His voice quieted. "If you let them get too close, they'll try to kill you. I mean it." He reached out and took Doggett's hand. "No matter how paranoid you are, you're not paranoid enough. Listen to Skinner. He won't talk to Langly about it, but Ringo's sure Skinner knows more than he's ever been willing to let on. Please, be careful."  
  
Doggett squeezed Byers' hand and let it go. The man was obviously serious, and very troubled about the whole thing.  
  
"I'll be careful. I always am."  
  
Byers sighed, looking doubtful, but nodded. He turned his attention back to his Eggs Benedict and the slice of bacon that he'd snagged from Doggett's plate.  
  
"That's my food you're messin' with."  
  
"You snooze, you lose."  
  
Doggett snorted. "I think you got an attitude problem, boy."  
  
"I think I belong to myself right now," Byers said with an evil grin, "and I'm having a craving for another slice of bacon. You weren't eating it, so I figured it was my duty to keep my strength up after what you did to me last night." He chuckled.  
  
Doggett mussed Byers' already rumpled hair with one hand and laughed. "You have a point. Speaking of which, how are you feeling? Not your body; I know how that's doing. I mean inside."  
  
Byers looked up again, thoughtful. Shifting his weight, he sat. "I'm fine, actually. It was really different from what happened Friday night. Last night was a lot more like what I've done before. I mean, it's never been quite like that, and I've certainly never done anything that intense, but I knew enough about what we were doing that it was comfortable for me. I could cope with it. Though I'm glad you weren't as hard on me as I asked."  
  
Doggett nodded. "You don't have enough experience to know your own limits yet. It takes a while, and I don't want to hurt you while you're learning. It would be really irresponsible to push you too far. A good Dom always takes care of his sub, Johnny." Doggett laid a hand gently on Byers' shoulder. "I want you to know that, to be sure of it, no matter where you go or who you end up with. Never let a Dom hurt you or force you to do anything you don't actually want to do, or that you haven't negotiated beforehand. If it does happen, get out the second you can. Walk away from the guy -- run if you have to -- and don't go back unless you got somebody who can mediate. If you ever have a bad experience, I promise that you can always talk to me or Sergio. We'll help you, whatever it is, okay?"  
  
Byers laid a hand on top of Doggett's, nodding. "Thanks," he said softly. "That means a lot."  
  
"I don't want to see you get hurt," Doggett said, "not by anybody. Especially not by me."  
  
Byers shifted closer, sliding an arm around Doggett's waist, and Doggett pulled him close and held him. Byers turned his face to him and they kissed. It was a savory kiss, tasting of bacon and coffee and eggs. Rather than arousing Doggett, the kiss left him feeling a warm tenderness for the man. Byers was no fool, but sometimes there seemed to be an innocence about him that belied his years and experience.   
  
Doggett worried that some unscrupulous asshole would take advantage of Byers' desire to please someone, to find acceptance from someone he could respect and serve. Despite Byers' paranoia, he could see those desires burning in him. He thought that those wants and needs might bypass Byers' reason and his self-protective instincts, and land the shy, quiet man in serious trouble if he didn't learn how to rein them in.   
  
This weekend Byers had done -- had let Doggett do -- things that surprised him; things he wouldn't have expected from a man whose paranoia was one of his defining characteristics. Perhaps in wanting so much to be able to trust, Byers was forgetting himself. Doggett wondered if it would all be over Monday, when they went back to their homes and their daily habits. Was it just a fluke of circumstance?  
  
Doggett released Byers, then moved the remains of breakfast off the bed. He lay on his side and patted the bed in front of him. "C'mere," he said.  
  
Byers slid close and lay beside him, sliding a hand from Doggett's shoulder to his wrist. "What would you like?" he asked.  
  
"Come spoon up with me," Doggett said, raising his arm so that Byers could curl up against him. They shuffled for a moment, snuggling close together, and Doggett wrapped his arm around Byers' thin waist, angling up until the palm of his hand lay cupped over Byers' heart. He sighed, tightening his grip on his companion.  
  
"Feels good," Byers whispered.  
  
"Mmmhmm." Doggett breathed in the warm scent of the massage oil on Byers' skin. He could feel Byers' slow, steady heartbeat in his palm. The difference in their size was just enough that Byers fit perfectly against the curve of his body. He didn't think he'd had such a pleasant Sunday morning in years. There was no rush, nowhere Doggett had to be, nothing he had to do. He could just lie there, holding Byers, savoring the physical contact and the pleasure of being with him. They could shower later, maybe go for a walk in the park again, or perhaps Byers would have something in mind he'd like to do. For now, all Doggett wanted was this. He took a deep breath and kissed the back of Byers' head, smiling.  
  
"You make me feel good, Jack," Byers said quietly.  
  
"I'm glad," Doggett told him. "You deserve that."  
  
NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY  
5TH AVENUE & 42ND STREET  
MID-DAY  
  
"What's so great about a library?" Doggett asked as they passed between the stone lions and climbed the stairs to the library's doors.  
  
Byers looked at him, an eyebrow raised. He was dressed in jeans again, and a brick red shirt. "This is only one of the most magnificent public libraries in the world, Jack. The architecture is amazing late 19th-early 20th century Beaux Arts, and this is the epicenter of literary history in the United States. So many famous authors worked in the writing rooms here you'd think it was a university."  
  
"But it's a library, Johnny. It's a bunch of books. It could be anywhere and it'd still be a bunch of books."  
  
Byers snorted. "And The Cloisters is just a bunch of old stuff."  
  
Doggett rolled his eyes. "Okay, so you got me there. But I know you and the guys can get into the Library of Congress when you need to, so what's the big deal about this?"  
  
Byers shook his head sadly. "It's about the history here." He opened the door and stepped in, followed by Doggett. Byers took a deep breath. "Smell that?"  
  
"Smells like books and the great unwashed."  
  
"Precisely. That's the smell of history, Jack. Well, except maybe for the great unwashed part." Byers smiled broadly. "Those books represent a massive collection of knowledge, the passage of time, and the creation and fostering of one of the world's most impressive modern literary traditions. Think of the people who have passed through those doors. Think about the collections of letters and papers of hundreds of American writers. Think about all the secrets that are hidden here, just waiting to be discovered." It excited him, made his heart beat faster, thinking of all the famous, infamous, and talented men and women who had passed through those portals before him.  
  
Doggett looked at Byers. "If I was gonna see a library, I'd want to see the one at Alexandria, before Caesar's men burned it for campfires when they trashed the city."  
  
Byers nodded. "That's always been a wild fantasy of mine. If only time travel was feasible. Well, without horrible consequences anyway." He thought of the case Mulder and Scully worked on involving a scientist who had traveled back in time to murder himself. Bizarre.  
  
"You've been watchin' too many Back to the Future marathons, Johnny."  
  
Byers chuckled. "Yeah. Stepping on a bug and causing the universe to shift on its axis isn't really my idea of the best way to travel."  
  
"Why here though? There are so many things to see in the City. Lots of bigger, more impressive stuff, really."  
  
"I'm not so sure about that. Don't you want to see Jefferson's manuscript of the Declaration of Independence? The original Gutenberg Bible? What about the Reading Room?" Byers tilted his head, walking toward a stairway.  
  
Doggett shrugged. "Haven't been anywhere near the place since before it was renovated in '95. They even had the lions wearin' hard hats. It was a mess before that. I mean, yeah, it must have been a nice room way back when, but now?"  
  
"Everything I've seen suggests that the restoration is really impressive. Mark Twain was here, Jack, and the beat poets and Barbara Tuchman and F. Scott Fitzgerald and Dylan Thomas and... well, pretty much anybody who's anybody in literature that's been in New York has been here at one point or another." Byers wasn't sure why this sort of thing didn't seem to excite Doggett the way it excited him.  
  
Doggett gave him a small smile. "I guess the literary life never really did much for me. I read a lot more when I was a kid than I do now. These days, I barely have time to keep up with what I need to know for work, much less spend time reading because I like to." He kept pace with Byers on the stairs. "I wish I could. I miss it, you know? Reading things for fun or just to make me think."  
  
"I don't think I could survive without it," Byers said. "If the only things I ever read were related to my work, I'd curl up into myself and never stick my face out the door. But if you stop and think about it, everything is related to the work I do. There are clues everywhere, and when the guys and I are researching our stories, sometimes we have to look in the most unbelievable directions. I need to know a little about as many different things as I can to make sense of what we find. One story we did about six years back involved a scientist's stolen research that coded DNA sequences for a newly discovered psychoactive substance in musical compositions to keep them concealed. I couldn't believe that music theory ended up being useful for our work, but in that case it was worth more than all of our knowledge of cryptanalysis and cryptography combined. Once we had it broken down, it was elegant; an exquisite example of cross-disciplinary work on the scientist's part." Byers chuckled. "The music wasn't bad either, though Langly still says he prefers the Ramones."  
  
Doggett looked at Byers, surprise in his eyes. He shook his head. "You amaze me," he said. "Music theory and biochemistry?"  
  
"I like knowing things," Byers said. "I want to follow knowledge like a sinking star. It's about the only thing I have going for me."  
  
"Will you give that a break?" Doggett said, annoyed. "You're always saying shit like that about yourself. You've got no goddamn sense of how different you really are, do you? Quoting Tennyson like everybody should know that poem? I can't believe half the stuff you and the guys manage to come up with. You're all a bunch of geniuses -- well, except that Bond guy you picked up a few months ago -- and the only reason other people don't notice is because you're always talking about this conspiracy stuff, like mandroids and Teletubbies and implanted microchips in people's brains. If you were anywhere other than publishing that paper, Johnny, you'd be golden."  
  
Byers sighed. It was hard for him to hear things like that. He'd never thought of himself as anything special; he was just a man who wanted to do the right thing. Byers knew he was intelligent, but he didn't think he came anywhere near genius. Langly, maybe, when he was hacking or coding, or Frohike when he cobbled those inventions of his out of spare parts, but not himself. All Byers felt he was really good at was knowing multi-syllabic words and connecting the dots between different bits of information. "I doubt that," he said.  
  
Doggett shook his head. "There you go again. What did I tell you about needing to learn how to take a compliment?"  
  
Byers looked over at Doggett, coming to rest on the third floor landing. He snorted. "Thank you, Sir."  
  
"You're still a smart ass, and you still don't believe me."  
  
"How am I supposed to believe you when you're saying things that outrageous?"  
  
Doggett sighed and shook his head, continuing up the stairs. "Maybe one of these days it'll sink in. C'mon, let's go look at this stuff you wanted to see."  
  
As they were making their way up the fifth floor steps, Byers spotted a familiar face. He cringed and tried to hide behind Doggett as they walked, hoping not to be noticed.  
  
"Hey, Munch!" Doggett said.  
  
Detective John Munch turned to look, squinted, shook his head and waited for the two men to get to the fifth floor landing. "Hey Doggett, what the hell are you doin' with this loser?"  
  
Doggett looked over at Byers with an arched eyebrow, then back at Munch. "Research."  
  
Byers shifted uncomfortably, knowing that attempting to hide behind Doggett was only going to look weird at this point. "You two... uh... know each other?"  
  
Doggett looked at him. "I was about to ask you the same thing."  
  
Munch smirked. "I arrested him once. And why aren't you wearin' that aluminum foil hat, Byers?"  
  
Byers glowered at Munch, embarrassed. He could feel himself blush.   
  
Doggett's eyes widened. "Aluminum foil hat?"  
  
"Keeps out the government's mind control rays," Munch said with a shrug. The detective was grinning and Byers was convinced it was at his expense. Munch turned to Doggett. "So how's the basement at the Hoover? And that Mulder guy?"  
  
"Mulder's retired now," Doggett said. "I'm doin' okay though, thanks."  
  
"Mulder still seein' little green men?"  
  
"Grey," Byers grumbled.  
  
"Yeah, well, whatever he's seein' I just hope he's keeping his clothes on," Munch said.   
  
Doggett's eyebrows climbed to his hairline. "God, I hope so." He looked over at Byers with a 'this I've got to hear' expression on his face.  
  
Byers tapped at Doggett's elbow. "Agent Doggett, we really have to get back to work..."  
  
Munch shook his head. "So what are you guys researching here?"  
  
Doggett blinked and looked at Byers, then back at Munch. "Uh... genetic mutations."  
  
"Wouldn't the sciences library be more useful for that?" Munch asked.  
  
Byers shuffled and said, "Actually we're dealing with ethical issues in this case."  
  
Munch snorted and gave Byers a sidelong glance. "A guy who breaks into warehouses is worried about ethics?"  
  
Byers glared at Munch, irritated and showing it. "We broke into that warehouse because what was happening in there was unethical."  
  
"Yeah," Munch said, chuckling. "And extraterrestrial."  
  
Doggett looked confused but put a hand on Byers' arm. "Easy, Byers."  
  
Munch smiled. "Nah, it's okay. You and your pals stayin' out of trouble, Byers?"  
  
"Why would you care?" Byers said. He crossed his arms in front of him.  
  
"'Cuz I've been subscribed to your rag for years now." Munch winked.  
  
Byers sputtered. "What?" He shook his head. "Your name's not on our subscriber list."  
  
Munch laughed. "You think I'm stupid enough to put my real name on your subscriber list? I'm listed as Richard Belzer. You guys even printed one of my articles a few years back about the Gulf Breeze sightings."  
  
"Belzer?" Byers was stunned. That was, in fact, one of the names on their list, and they had published just such an article by that reader. "But I thought you --"  
  
"Turned out you guys aren't nearly the nutcases I used to think you were," Munch said. "You've published some good stuff since '89." He offered a hand to Byers.  
  
Speechless, Byers took it. He gaped at Munch.  
  
"I really gotta be goin'; lunch break's over and I gotta get back to the office. Nice to see you again, Doggett." Munch shook Doggett's hand, then looked back to Byers. "You and the guys keep uncoverin' the conspiracies, Byers. But that new guy? Bond? What a flake." Munch grinned and headed off down the stairs.  
  
Doggett turned to Byers. "What the hell was that all about? Aluminum foil hats? Naked Mulder? When did you meet Munch, Johnny?"  
  
Byers stood watching Munch's back disappear around the corner of the staircase, his mouth open.   
  
"Johnny?"  
  
Byers shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it," he said quietly, burying his face in one hand. "I just really don't want to talk about it. Not here, not now." He moaned. "God, he's one of our subscribers."  
  
Doggett laid a hand on Byers' shoulder. "You gonna be okay?" There was concern in his voice.  
  
Byers sighed and looked up, seeing a worried and deeply confused expression on Doggett's face. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. It was just... something of a shock, that's all. That was not the best day of my life."  
  
"Munch arrested you?"  
  
Byers squeezed his eyes shut, then took a deep breath and looked calmly up at Doggett. He nodded. "I'll tell you about it later, all right? Let's just go up to the reading room. I really need to sit down for a few minutes."  
  
Byers felt Doggett's hand slide to the small of his back as they climbed the two remaining flights of stairs up to the huge reading room. The touch was comforting and reassuring after his rather distressing run-in with the past. So much for any desire to time travel, he thought. The last thing he ever wanted to do was end up back in that warehouse with a gun at his head. The thought left him panicked and sweaty. By the time they got to the reading room, Byers had his panic under control, but really needed to sit.  
  
"You're lookin' really pale, Johnny. Are you sure you're all right?" Doggett sat next to him and took one of his hands. Byers let their joined hands rest on his thigh.  
  
"I really don't want to talk about this in public," Byers said. "It was one of the worst experiences of my life."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Byers turned his eyes to the table before him. "You had no way of knowing. I didn't know you knew him. If I'd had any idea he would be here --"  
  
"He's really not that bad a guy," Doggett said.  
  
Byers looked up at him. "He wasn't the problem, Jack. He was just doing his job. It was the rest of it that was awful. He just reminds me of the whole mess. Please, don't make me talk about this right now."  
  
Doggett nodded. "Sorry, Johnny. Are you sure you still want to be here right now? We could come back another time if you like."  
  
Byers shook his head. "We won't have time before we have to head home."  
  
Doggett squeezed his hand. "I didn't mean it had to be this weekend. Maybe we can come back together another time."  
  
Byers sighed and sat back, taking in the huge room around him. It was richly, even opulently furnished. Along the edges of the room were desks with computer terminals for research and writing. The ceiling had an incredibly realistic painting of a cloudy sky framed by wood and molding in its center. He lay his head on the back of his chair for a few minutes and just stared at it, taking it in.  
  
Come back another time? It seemed like Doggett was interested in continuing their relationship, whatever that meant, after they got back home. He thought about what that might be like, having someone to be with, someone to turn to now and then when he really needed it.  
  
Finally, Byers looked back down at Doggett, who had been sitting patiently, watching him. "No, it's okay. The memories are always with me, Jack. I can't just dump them in the stairwell if we leave the library. And I really want to see the manuscript draft of the Declaration."  
  
Doggett nodded. "Okay. I think it's over there." Doggett pointed off to one side of the room. The two stood, and Doggett led the way. They eventually found themselves standing before a climate-controlled cabinet lidded with glass, kept behind a rope barrier. "Here it is," Doggett said.  
  
Byers looked down at the ancient, stained document. He felt a sense of reverence welling up in him, knowing that Jefferson had written it. The hands of a great man had made the document in a time of incredible social upheaval, under circumstances he could barely imagine. Byers saw it as a testimony to what was best and brightest in the human species, to the spirit of men who risked everything against a massive power far greater than their own to gain freedom from tyranny. He hoped that, in some small way, he and his friends were contributing to that ongoing struggle. He stood and stared at the draft for a very long time.  
  
Eventually, he felt a touch on his shoulder and startled. Turning, he saw it was Doggett.  
  
"You been here for about half an hour, Johnny. Is there anything else you want to see or do here, or can we go get some lunch?" There was a slight touch of impatience in Doggett's voice.  
  
"Sorry," Byers said. "Yeah, let's go eat." Upon being reminded, he could feel his stomach rumble. "I didn't realize I'd been here so long, and I'm hungry too."  
  
"You doin' better now?"  
  
Byers nodded. "Yeah, thanks. I needed some time to let it go."  
  
"You maybe want Korean barbeque?" Doggett asked. "I know a decent little lunch place not far from here where they do it pretty good."  
  
"Not sure my stomach could handle kim chee right now. Russian maybe? Some piroshkys?"  
  
Doggett nodded. "I guess we could do that."  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
AFTERNOON  
  
"Talk to me, Johnny."   
  
Doggett hung their clean suits up in the closet. They had been waiting on the bed for them when they arrived after lunch.  
  
Byers sighed, kicked his sneakers off, and folded himself onto the bed to sit. He'd been quiet and withdrawn since they'd met Munch at the library. Byers had said that Munch had brought up a lot of bad memories for him, but Doggett had been hoping that lunch would help him relax a little. He looked a little less haunted than he had, but Byers was still in a very dark mood.  
  
"It must have been pretty bad," Doggett said quietly, seating himself next to Byers.  
  
Byers nodded. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't be acting this way. It was years ago. There's no reason for me to still be effected by it like this."  
  
"It's not that unusual when somebody's been through a trauma," Doggett said. "It can stay with you the rest of your life."  
  
Byers closed his eyes, lowering his head. "I hope not."  
  
"What happened to you?"  
  
Byers looked up at Doggett. "Everything I believed in was stolen from me or destroyed, and I was on my knees in a warehouse with a gun at my head, knowing I was going to die." Byers was pale and quiet, but steady. "I lost everything that day. My job, my faith, my plans for the future, my heart, my family -- everything."  
  
"It sounds terrible," Doggett said.  
  
Byers nodded. "Yeah, you could say that."  
  
"How did all that happen?"  
  
Byers sighed. "That's a really long story. It... it involved Susanne, and Mulder, and Munch. And it was the day I met the guys. It opened my eyes to the conspiracies, to the truth of their existence and how dangerous they are. We tried to stop their plans. It almost cost all of us our lives. Well, not Munch. He just questioned us afterwards."  
  
"Who were 'they,' and what plans were those?"  
  
"The same people behind the supersoldiers, the alien colonization plans, the shapeshifters, and pretty much everything else we've run across over the years," Byers said. "In that particular case, they were attempting to test a chemical that Susanne had developed that caused paranoia in those exposed to it." He looked at Doggett with an expression that said he knew Doggett wasn't going to believe him.  
  
"This Susanne was the woman you--"  
  
Byers nodded. "I have no idea what came over me. I fell for her the minute I saw her. The irony was, everything she told me was a lie. She was trying to get information from an encrypted DARPA file about the test of an ergotamine-histamine gas she'd developed under threat to her life while she was working at the Advanced Weapons Facility in Whitestone, New Mexico. The conspiracy had framed her for the death of her co-workers and an MP. By the time we were through, we'd stopped the conspiracy's test, but Susanne was snatched off the street right in front of us by the same man who was going to execute us."  
  
Doggett wasn't sure what to say. It all sounded confusing, but he certainly could see how it effected Byers. "But the guy obviously didn't kill you. What happened?"  
  
Byers shivered. "I still don't really know. Much later, we found out that the man was one of Mulder's informants." Byers' voice dropped away to a bare whisper. "He had the gun to my head, Jack. He pulled the trigger on an empty chamber. I... I still hear that sound."  
  
Doggett moved closer to Byers and put an arm around him. "I'm sorry, Johnny. "  
  
Byers looked at him, startled and angry. "Don't touch me." He slid away from Doggett, shaking his head. "I can't talk about this anymore."  
  
Doggett looked at Byers, concerned about his pain and his distance. "You don't have to say anything else about it. I'm sorry you went through that." Byers was pale and upset, his body tense and stiff, but he wasn't shaking. His face was cold as granite. "It was over years ago," Doggett said quietly, putting as much reassurance as he could into his voice.  
  
Doggett had his own share of moments like those. Lebanon, and the loss of his son lived too vividly in his mind, replaying like loop tapes in his nightmares. He understood the fear and the anger and the self-loathing that came with all of it; the helplessness of those situations, and their feeling of terrible inexorability. Doggett had been where Byers was far too often.   
  
"It's not over," Byers said. "It surrounds me, every day. All the things that were going on then, they're still going on. The players change, but the conspiracies continue. It doesn't seem to matter how many years pass, it's all right here." He tapped his head with a finger. "I wish I could forget. I wish I could erase it all."   
  
The sadness and anger in Byers' eyes was profound. This, Doggett thought, must be where his habitual solemnity was rooted, and the calm, sorrowful expression that usually occupied his face. He knew Byers was, at heart, an idealist, and from what little had been said, it seemed that much of the man's belief in things being good and right in the world had been shattered that day. Byers sounded like he'd never really recovered.   
  
He wished there was something he could do to offer Byers a little ease and comfort, some shelter from the internal storm, but the bearded man was cold and distant, unwilling to be touched. The dissociation was another feeling Doggett knew too well. When Byers was ready, maybe he'd talk more about it. That, however, might be a long time coming.  
  
"We've still got a few hours before dinner and the show, Johnny. Did you want to do anything, or would you rather just lie down for a while?"  
  
Byers was huddled tightly into himself, sullen. "I don't know," he said quietly.  
  
Doggett sighed. "I guess we'll stay here for a while, then. Do you want company, or should I leave you alone?"  
  
Byers looked at him and his face softened. "Please, stay."  
  
Doggett nodded.   
  
Byers sighed and lay on his side, still looking troubled. He wrapped his arms around himself. Doggett slid closer to him, laying a hand tentatively on his shoulder. "Is this okay?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah." Byers closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."  
  
"I know what it's like, Johnny. I have my own shit to cope with, and I've done way worse stuff than that when I've been in that mood. I wish you'd let me help." He squeezed Byers' shoulder and raised his hand to Byers' head, quietly stroking his hair.   
  
Byers started to relax slightly, then sighed deeply. "This helps," he whispered. He looked up at Doggett, overwhelming sadness still darkening his clear blue eyes. Doggett wondered if he was lying. He really didn't want to see Byers stay in this mood.  
  
"Move over," Doggett said. He kicked his shoes off and slid onto the bed next to Byers, and they both moved a little more toward the center of the mattress. Doggett lay on his back. "Okay, c'mere," he said, sliding an arm around Byers.  
  
Byers scooted to Doggett's side, laying his head on the man's shoulder. He draped his arm over Doggett's broad chest. Doggett could feel the tension in Byers' body as he wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. "Try to relax a little," Doggett said, slowly running his fingers through Byers' hair.  
  
Byers sighed and settled, still tense. "I wish it was that easy."  
  
"Just breathe, Johnny. Close your eyes and breathe slow and deep. It helps."  
  
Byers lay still, taking slow, deep breaths for a while. Eventually, the tension in his muscles started to seep away, but he groaned softly and fisted Doggett's shirt in one hand.  
  
"What's wrong?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers' reply was quiet and strained. "I have a headache, and my body is really aching too."  
  
Doggett nodded. "You want some more aspirin? The aches are partly left over from last night, but I'm gonna guess that the headache's just from stress, and that ain't helping the muscles much either."  
  
"You're probably right," Byers said. "I don't get headaches very often that aren't from stress, unless I'm down with something."  
  
"Hang on, let me get you some aspirin. You go ahead and stay here."  
  
Doggett slid out from under Byers, bringing back water and aspirin from the bathroom. Byers sat to take the pills as Doggett lay down on the bed next to him again. Setting the glass down on the bedside table, Byers lay back down as well. He settled into Doggett's embrace, slightly more relaxed this time.  
  
"Thanks," Byers said.  
  
"You gonna be okay?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers nodded. "In a while. Maybe I'll be in a better mood when I don't hurt so much."  
  
"Probably." Doggett ran his fingers over Byers' cheek, and Byers looked up at him. Doggett bent his head down and kissed him softly, their lips meeting with a quiet breath. "Just rest for a while. We've got a lot of time before we have to be anywhere." Byers nodded and lay his head down to rest.  
  
Some time later, Byers asked, "Jack, why are you being so good to me?"  
  
"I like you," Doggett said. "I've been havin' a good time with you. Why shouldn't I be good to you? Did you want me to be a stressed out asshole or something? I could probably manage it if you insist."  
  
Byers snorted and smiled. "No, that's okay. I guess I'm just not used to it."  
  
"Maybe you should be." Doggett's fingers slipped slowly through Byers' soft hair, his touch a caress.  
  
"I wouldn't mind that." Byers' voice was sad but hopeful, as though he didn't believe there would ever be a reason to be used to it.  
  
"I meant what I was sayin' earlier," Doggett said. "I really think you sell yourself short, Johnny. You got a lot goin' for you, but you refuse to see it. Maybe you should try just relaxing, being yourself around other people sometimes."  
  
Byers shook his head gently. "It's too dangerous. You know that."  
  
"Yeah, there's risks, but I don't keep myself locked in a warehouse basement workin' around the clock, either."  
  
"That's true." Byers slid his hand along Doggett's chest, letting it come to rest at his hip. "I'm not you."  
  
Doggett chuckled. "God, I hope not. One of me is enough for most purposes."  
  
"I'm not so sure about that," Byers said, his voice taking on a slight tone of mischief.  
  
Doggett smiled. "Oh? And what did you think you'd need two of me for?"  
  
Byers snickered. "I'm sure you'd think of something."  
  
Doggett drew Byers closer. "Oh yeah, I suppose I could think of a few things." He laughed, imagining two of him with Byers, one fucking, one being sucked. It sent a tingle down his spine, creating a slight stirring in his groin. "You got a dirty mind, Johnny. That innocent-looking face of yours don't fool me."  
  
"I have no idea what you mean," Byers said. Doggett heard him snicker again under his breath. This was good. A returning sense of humor was a sign that Byers was probably starting to feel better, both physically and emotionally.   
  
Doggett ran a hand down Byers' back, starting to massage the slender man's muscles and tendons. He felt less tense than he had when they first lay down together. It wasn't long before Byers was much more relaxed, and mumbling quietly about how good it felt. Byers' back was warm, and he was starting to melt under Doggett's hand. A few minutes later, Doggett tugged at Byers' shirt, pulling the hem out of his pants, then slid his hand underneath, caressing the soft, bare skin.  
  
Byers sighed. "So nice," he said quietly. His own hand stirred from Doggett's hip and started to caress its way down the outside of Doggett's thigh, moving slow and tender.   
  
Doggett could feel Byers' breathing deepen, still slow and relaxed, and his own kept a similar pace. Their motion was soft and languid, unhurried but sensual. He could lie in this space for hours, drifting in the quiet eroticism of slow moving hands and the soothing sound of gentle, aroused breath. Content, he would let Byers decide if things went further, not wanting to push if the contact was meant more for comfort than passion.   
  
Doggett knew from his own experience that at times like these sex had the potential to be healing and give great pleasure, but it could also hurt someone in a fragile, vulnerable state of mind, as Byers had been. There could be a lot of satisfaction in erotic play that didn't lead to more involved sexual acts, and if that was what happened, he was all right with it. On the other hand, if Byers wanted an intense, body-shaking fuck, he'd be more than happy to provide that as well -- or anything in between.  
  
Byers' hand followed the line of Doggett's thigh to his knee, fingertips tracing the muscles under the faded jeans. Slowly, they trailed back up from knee to hip, sliding down along the curve of Doggett's ass where it met the mattress. Doggett tilted his hips slightly toward Byers, raising his knee and resting his leg on Byers' hip. He sighed at the feel of Byers' slim body on his inner thigh, and held him a little more closely. Byers moved with him, slipping one leg between Doggett's thighs, and moving his fingers along Doggett's ass to where the muscle met his back. With a soft motion, Byers palm cupped the firm curve.  
  
"What do you want, Johnny?" Doggett asked quietly. The touch was awakening arousal in him, and he wanted to have some idea of where this was going before he made any decisions.  
  
Byers looked up at him. "I just... I guess I just want to be here for a while like this." He sighed. "My headache's a little better, but I still don't feel quite right. I like how this feels, what we're doing."   
  
He slid his hand slowly up Doggett's side to his shoulder, pulling him closer. Doggett answered the movement by holding Byers tight to his body, and Byers made a little rumbly purring sound. Doggett's fingers moved on the bare skin of Byers' back, and Byers tucked his head next to Doggett's cheek.  
  
"This what you need?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers nodded. "Yeah."  
  
Nuzzling in Byers' hair, Doggett closed his eyes. "I like how you feel," he said. "You have a such a good body; warm, strong, comfortable." He stroked Byers' cheek as he let his other hand roam Byers' upper back. "This is good, spending time with you like this."  
  
Byers squeezed him hard for a moment, then lay a hesitant kiss on Doggett's neck. "Thanks," he said. "It's been years since I could just... since anyone's been with me like this." His voice quieted, barely a whisper. "I've needed this so much."  
  
Doggett nodded. "A lot of guys I've been with aren't much into it, but I like it. Some of 'em, all they want is a fuck, and then it's 'get outta my face.' I never understood that. I mean, sometimes, yeah, I've felt that way, but really only if the guy's been a lousy lay or a jerk. Mostly it feels good to hold somebody, to have 'em next to you like this."  
  
Byers shifted his weight, and Doggett loosened his arms to let him move. With a little grunt, Byers picked himself up and lay fully atop Doggett's body, sliding his arms under Doggett's shoulders. Doggett could feel Byers watching him and opened his eyes as he slid his arms back around Byers' body.  
  
"When I hear you talk about having been with those other men, all these guys you've been with, sometimes I feel a little envious," Byers said.  
  
"No," Doggett shook his head. "You don't want to envy that, Johnny. There wasn't much to it, just sex. Most of it didn't mean anything. There was never any kind of connection. The few times there was, there were other reasons that things didn't last. It's like the difference between chips and pot roast. Chips might fill your stomach, but they don't really feed you."  
  
"Langly might disagree with you on that," Byers said with a soft chuckle. "You just... you have so much more confidence than I do, so much more experience. I guess that's what I wish I had, when I think about it."  
  
Doggett took Byers' face between his hands. "You'll get there. You're a good man, Johnny. Someday you'll meet the right person, and you'll feel confident with him -- or with her -- I don't know what you really want and only you can know for sure. It makes a difference though, feeling that way with somebody, and once you feel it you can learn to hang onto it. Don't think that just because you're a sub you won't feel it, or just because it hasn't happened yet, it never will."  
  
Byers looked into his eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face. "When I'm working, I have a lot of confidence. I know I'm good at what I do. I've faced so much over the years and gotten through. It's just when I'm in situations like this, when it's... intimate..." Byers hesitated, blushing.  
  
"But you know what you want, Johnny." Doggett traced a thumb along Byers' cheekbone with a soft, slow stroke. "You've asked for what you wanted this weekend. You weren't sure about what you could actually take, but you knew what you wanted. That's where it starts. It takes a lot of courage to ask, especially when it's something that most people think of as weird or dangerous, like they do with this kind of thing."  
  
Byers nodded.  
  
"You were so beautiful last night," Doggett said, his voice quiet and rough, "so hot. What we did, that was some of the most intense sex I've had in years." He watched as Byers' pupils dilated, heard Byers' breathing quicken. He felt Byers' heart race as he held him. "It was more than just a fuck. There's --" Doggett couldn't say another word. The feeling was sharp and dangerous and touched something in him too deeply. He pulled Byers down to him and kissed him hard, sliding his tongue into the man's mouth.  
  
Byers responded, moaning and sucking on Doggett's tongue. Doggett wanted him, wanted to rip his clothes off, pin him down and fuck him face to face, long and slow. His blood was burning with desire for it, pulse pounding fast and hot as he held Byers and moaned into his mouth. He wanted to feel Byers' legs wrapped around him, chest to chest, his rod buried in that hot, tight ass.  
  
They broke the kiss and Byers was gasping. "Want you," Doggett growled, "god I want you so bad."  
  
"Yes," Byers hissed. His eyes were half-open, glassy and shining. The two men rolled on the bed, pulling each other's clothes off as fast as they could.  
  
"Do you want it, Johnny?" he asked, pulling Byers' shirt over his head. He sucked on Byers' neck as the shirt came away.  
  
Byers' hands were pulling at the button of his jeans, tugging the zipper down. "God, yes." Byers was panting, lust in his eyes.  
  
Doggett lifted himself up as Byers pulled his pants down from his hips. "Do you want me?" he growled, urgent, then realized he'd asked aloud. The question had fallen from his lips before his mind had even framed it, but now it loomed before him, frighteningly important.  
  
Byers had left off tugging at his pants and was pulling at his shirt now. "I love what you do to me, Jack, how you make me feel." Byers' voice was husky and deep. He kissed Doggett, swift and hot. "I want you." With another tug, he pulled Doggett's shirt over his head. "Go easy, I'm a little sore."  
  
Doggett shed his pants then pulled Byers' off, as he had already unfastened his own jeans. "Johnny, do you trust me?" It was quiet, tentative, another question he felt a terrible need to have answered.  
  
Byers looked at him, frustration on his face, breathing hard. "Don't ask me that. I don't... I can't answer. I don't know." He grabbed Doggett's wrist, heat in his eyes and in his voice. "I don't want to talk right now. I want you. I want to forget everything but this, everything but right now. Please, just help me forget. I don't want to think, I just want to feel you in me, feel your body on me." Byers' eyes pleaded with him, and Doggett pulled a condom and lube from the bedside drawer.  
  
With a sigh, Byers closed his eyes and leaned back, letting go of Doggett's wrist. After applying the lube and condom, Doggett spread his body over Byers, lying between his open, waiting thighs. He could feel Byers' hardness against his own, two hot, erect cocks sliding slowly against each other. Byers groaned and took Doggett's ass in his hands, kneading at the muscles.  
  
They clung together, kissing and touching, their bodies flowing in the deep, slow rhythm of their desire. Their need for each other expressed itself in touch and the rough sound of their quickening breath.  
  
"God, Jack, you have such an amazing body," Byers growled as he moved with his Master. He slid a hand up from Doggett's ass along his back. "Gorgeous muscles," Byers' voice was deep and breathless but quiet as Doggett caressed him with the naked length of his body. His eyes were closed, but he could hear Doggett's deep breathing. Byers was lost in sensation. "Hard and strong, so powerful." His hands continued their journey from Doggett's ass to his shoulders. "Love the way they move under your skin, like a tiger, god, graceful..."  
  
Doggett's mouth was at his throat, hot and wet. "Yes," Byers whispered. Doggett was hard and dangerous, all muscle and bone and sinew, and he moved like a predator in Byers' arms. His weight burned Byers' flesh, driving away the memories and the fear Byers hated so much. There was nothing else: the summer heat, the bed beneath him, his Master's powerful body driving him to ecstasy. If there was darkness in Byers now, it was only the blind intensity of his need.  
  
Doggett rumbled above him, slick, hard shaft moving against Byers' own. He raised his knees and spread himself wide, inviting Doggett to enter him. He felt Doggett move down his body, a hand sliding between them, down between his legs. Fingers caressed his balls, then carefully slicked his opening as his Master sucked at a nipple. Byers moaned loud and his cock jerked as the sensation shot through him.  
  
One finger entered him, and Byers yipped, still tender. Doggett moved slowly and stretched him carefully, still sucking his nipple. It was exquisite distraction as his Master slid a second finger into him and started thrusting, slow and gentle. The motion continued until Byers cried out, nearly weeping with want.   
  
"God, Jack, I need you in me, please." He couldn't control the whine in his voice, or his desperation. The way Doggett broke his control every time they did this left Byers willing to do anything to have more of his Master's touch.  
  
Doggett moved on him, panting. "Easy, Johnny. You want my rod, I'll give it to you slow and deep."   
  
Doggett took Byers' ankles in his hands and held him wide open, ass raised and exposed, pushing his hot, thick shaft into him.  
  
"Yes, god, yes," Byers wailed, "ahhhhhhh..." Chest heaving, mouth wide open, Byers fisted the bedspread under him as Doggett kept moving deeper in one long, slow thrust. The motion didn't stop until Doggett was buried in him to the root, his balls resting against Byers' ass, hot and heavy. Byers couldn't stop moaning and thrashing his head from side to side with his body's abandon.  
  
"God, Johnny, god, you're so hot and tight." Doggett's voice strained with the effort of his stillness, and Byers reached out to take Doggett's wrists.  
  
"Please," Byers gasped, "don't stop. Let me feel you move in me."  
  
Doggett took Byers' hands in his, pinning them beside Byers' head, then started pumping into him at a torturously slow pace. Byers wrapped his legs around Doggett's waist, following the intense, deep movements, crying out wordlessly. His opening was still sore, but the penetration was unbearable perfection. His every nerve was burning with the sensation, and the fullness of Doggett's cock in him seemed to fill his whole body. His hips rocked with his Master's gentle, endless thrusts. His hands clung tightly to Doggett's, fingers intertwined.   
  
Byers felt entirely possessed. His body was consumed in the intensity of their union, leaving no room for anything else -- he felt no fear, no regret, no paranoia -- nothing but heart-deep satisfaction. Byers was lost in the dizziness of flight and the ecstasy of fullness, and the only physical sensation that really registered was the agonizing, gloriously slow friction of Doggett moving inside him.  
  
His grunts and cries became keening as he moved slowly with Doggett's deep, languid strokes. Byers lay, pierced by his Master's body, on the blade sharp edge of eternity. Time lost its meaning, and he had no idea how long the intimate dance of their pleasure continued. It flowed over and through him like a tidal force and the sound of Doggett's voice groaning and calling his name slid into his bones like bonfire heat. Where his Master touched him, fire remained. His kisses were blazing coals in paths along Byers' skin.   
  
Doggett's skin slid along his, sweat slicked and hot, the broad spread of his body caressing Byers from hips to shoulders. His weight was a welcome anchor as Byers' senses whirled, and then hot, sharp cries as Doggett came inside him, thrusting into him deep and strong. The throbbing cock inside him stroked him to his own peak and threw him down, shouting and jerking as he shot gouts of hot, sticky come between their bodies.  
  
Doggett was still on him for a time as they panted and gasped together. Eventually, Byers felt Doggett slide gently out of him, hands stroking his sides, his chest, his waist, calling him back to his body. Doggett's mouth, wet and soft, played slow along his skin. It was a long time before he opened his eyes.  
  
"Where are you, Johnny?" Doggett's voice was caring, compassionate. Byers felt a hand stroking through his hair. It felt good. He looked up into his Master's face, eyes still half closed.  
  
"I'm here," Byers said, but all he could manage was a hoarse, shaky whisper.   
  
Doggett took the water glass from the bedside table, where Byers had set it after he took his aspirin. Propping Byers up against his body, Doggett held it to his lips. Byers tried to move to take the glass, but his limbs were limp as wet string. He sipped slowly.  
  
"Thanks," he said, his voice steadier but still quiet. There was no energy left in him at all, and he was heavy with need for sleep.  
  
Doggett set the glass down again and kissed him. It was very slow and careful, almost sweet. "Rest," Doggett said.  
  
Byers nodded, slipping back down to the bed as Doggett lay him down and curled around his body. They held each other and Byers fell into warm, comforting darkness.  
  
Doggett looked over at the clock. There was still more than enough time for a nap and a shower before they had to dress for dinner and the show. He was too drained to rise and clean them up just yet. It wasn't like a little semen was going to hurt anything.  
  
Byers' soft, slow breathing and the calm expression on his face were reassuring. He was sure that Byers would sleep peacefully, pleasantly exhausted. It seemed unlikely that the man's memories of his experiences in Baltimore would be so pressing when he woke. Doggett doubted that anything fearful or distressing could have made it through Byers' ecstatic state.   
  
They had been joined, rocking together in their need and desire, for a long time. Doggett had been rather surprised that he'd been able to sustain their coupling for so long. He wasn't old, but he sure wasn't getting any younger either. What Byers did to him, how he reacted to his... his friend, left him wondering what he wanted when he got home. He knew he wanted to keep seeing Byers. That much was obvious. It seemed Byers was open to it, at least. They were good together; their erotic needs and desires meshed well, their personalities surprisingly complementary. He'd be a fool to let Byers walk away without good reason. The quiet man sleeping next to him had gotten under his skin with disturbing facility.  
  
The whole thing left Doggett uneasy, but strongly and undeniably attracted. He knew that the weekend and the suit were expensive gifts, but even with Byers' earlier moodiness Doggett felt it had been well worth the price. It wasn't as though Byers had simply had some petulant mood swing, and Doggett had his own share of demons that threatened to consume him now and again. He found he had a lot of empathy for Byers, different as they were.  
  
He watched Byers sleeping, a quiet snore escaping every so often. For someone so paranoid, he was letting himself be incredibly open and vulnerable. Shy, guarded, and withdrawn in so many ways, Byers was -- intentionally or not -- offering him something deep and precious. Was it his trust, action moving ahead of intention without conscious choice? Doggett felt a strange sense of privilege in receiving such a gift. The cost of a suit or a weekend in the City could never match the emotional value of such a thing.   
  
Doggett sighed and shook his head. There was too much paradox involved. Maybe if he was better at thinking the way Mulder did, he'd understand more clearly what was happening. As it was, the whole thing seemed on the verge of becoming its own odd sort of X File. Perhaps a little time and emotional distance would put things back into perspective, he thought. Maybe it would be best to think about it after he'd been home for a while.  
  
He closed his eyes, intensely conscious of Byers sleeping in his arms. It felt right.  
  
STUDIO 54  
WEST 54TH STREET  
6:30 PM  
  
"Papers, please. Let me see your papers." The request, and the German accent, left Byers with a creepy feeling. He knew the play was set in pre-war Berlin, but he didn't really think he needed to feel like he was there. Doggett presented their tickets to the man at the door, who was dressed in a German military uniform. The man examined them, handed their ticket stubs back, and said, "Thank you. I hope you will enjoy your stay in Berlin."  
  
Byers looked over at Doggett, nervous in the crowd. They were both dressed to the teeth, Byers in his new suit, Doggett in one that was equally expensive and attractive.  
  
"Don't worry, Johnny," Doggett said with a grin, "we get out before the war."  
  
Byers smiled back and shook his head. "Damned good thing, too. You know what they'd have done to us."  
  
"It was over before either of us were born."  
  
Byers looked up at Doggett. "Just don't say 'it can't happen here,' okay?"  
  
"I wasn't goin' anywhere near that," Doggett replied. "C'mon, let's find our seats."  
  
Byers followed Doggett through the filling theatre, down to a table near the stage. They sat, and Byers looked around. The seats must have been expensive, he thought. They were only one row back from the stage. Things were likely to get loud, and probably intense as well. That was fine with Byers. He'd have time and space to wind down at dinner after the show, and later back at the hotel. Sunday's opening was at seven, and they'd be out around nine thirty; not too late for a decent dinner by any means.  
  
"So what do you think?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers chuckled. "I think we're so close to the stage that the Kit Kat girls will flirt with you."  
  
"That is sorta their job," Doggett said, grinning.  
  
"And you look like it would be such a burden."  
  
Doggett flagged down a waiter and ordered drinks for them, then turned to Byers. "Having women flirt with me. A terrible job, but somebody's gotta do it." He made a very ineffective attempt to adopt a martyred expression.   
  
Byers laughed.   
  
"Besides," Doggett said, "with this show, maybe the guys'll be flirting with me too." He grinned a pleased, evil grin.  
  
Byers rolled his eyes. "I trust you weren't planning on grabbing anyone's ass in public."  
  
"They don't pay the actors enough for that. Besides," he gave Byers a seductive look, "I already have a cute ass to grab."  
  
"Not in public you don't," Byers said, blushing.  
  
Doggett chuckled. "It's okay, Johnny. I won't do that to you. Way too public here."  
  
Byers nodded. "The park was too public Friday, if you want my opinion."  
  
"Nah," Doggett said, shaking his head. "Nobody would even notice us there unless we were ripping each other's clothes off in the middle of the jogging trail. This ain't Virginia."  
  
"And you and I aren't cover models for 'Out.'" Byers gave Doggett a rueful glance. "It's not like we've got nothing to lose."  
  
"You worry too much. Why not just enjoy the show?"  
  
The waiter returned with their drinks, and winked at Doggett when he paid.  
  
"What did I tell you?" Byers said. "They're flirting with you already."  
  
Doggett snorted. "It must be my stunning good looks or somethin'."  
  
"You won't get an argument from me on that one," Byers muttered.  
  
Doggett grinned broadly. "Unless they're tryin' to get your attention by flirtin' with me." He took a sip of his beer.   
  
Byers tasted his own. A German lager; no doubt ordered as much for atmosphere as for the flavor. "Yeah, right," Byers said, "I'm more likely to be trampled in the rush for your attention."  
  
Doggett shot Byers a sharp glance. "Stop that shit," he said. "I'm not gonna listen to you run yourself down. You wanna do that, do it in front of Frohike or something. He might believe you."  
  
Byers gave a dry chuckle. "Did I ever tell you that Frohike thinks he's a 'chick magnet?'"  
  
Doggett laughed. "That's a good one. Then again, if Langly's been with Skinner and you're seein' me, he's probably the closest thing to a chick magnet you guys got."  
  
"Oh?" Byers said, arching an eyebrow. "You seem to have forgotten tall, buff Jimmy of the astonishing pecs."  
  
"I was sorta tryin' to," Doggett said. "Good lookin' kid, but he doesn't seem to have the brains god gave your average amoeba."  
  
Byers shook his head. "Give him a break, Jack. He's not stupid. He's just... a little scattered is all. He thinks with his heart, not his head. He's a good kid, and he tries really hard. If you ever talked to him, you'd know his heart was in the right place. And besides, he's the only thing keeping us in the black right now."  
  
"Okay," Doggett conceded, "so he's about as smart as a Golden Retriever."  
  
Byers rested his chin in his hand and glared at Doggett.  
  
"Sorry," Doggett said with a chuckle. "I know you like him, and he's helping out the best he can. It's just kinda hard to take him seriously sometimes. Especially when he was goin' on about that blind football team of his." Doggett shook his head, amused.  
  
Byers nodded, knowing he wasn't going to get anything more out of Doggett on this one. He did like Jimmy. Yes, he found their resident jock insufferably annoying sometimes, but at least Jimmy cared. Jimmy believed in what they were doing, and it was hard to find people who did, who regarded any of them as more than a joke. Sometimes he thought he saw a little of his own lost hope and idealism in Jimmy's eyes, and he wasn't sure whether to be sorry for the young man or for himself. Byers' own innocence had fled in 1989, taking too much of him with it.  
  
As the house lights went down and the opening lines of 'Wilkommen' rang out with the spotlight on the Emcee, Byers felt Doggett's hand slide into his lap. He covered it with his own. In the dark, with everyone's eyes on the show, Byers thought it might be private enough for this indulgence. The warmth and intimacy of the touch was comfortable, and Doggett's hand didn't stray this time. He was certain, however, that when they got back to the hotel, more than Doggett's hands would be straying. He would welcome it then.   
  
Byers wished he didn't have to hide. Given his choice, he'd far rather be leaning against Doggett, his Master's arm around his shoulders, both of them comfortable and open about who and what they were. Sometimes he wondered if the price for what he did with his life was too high. He didn't honestly believe he could walk away from it. The price of his silence and complicity about the conspiracies would only be higher. It was not an acceptable option.  
  
Cliff's negotiations with Fraulein Schneider over the cost of a cheap room made Byers laugh. "Reminds me of my place," he said, leaning into Doggett's ear.  
  
"That's because it looks like your place," Doggett said. "All it needs is a dozen computers and a Ramones poster."  
  
Byers snorted, almost spewing his beer. "Don't do that to me," he said when he caught his breath.  
  
"You started it," Doggett hissed. "Now hush, I wanna watch the show." He grinned at Byers.  
  
Byers managed to maintain something resembling silence, watching as much of the audience sang along with the cast. When Sally talked her way into Cliff's room, however, he couldn't help laughing again.  
  
"Oh god, that reminds me so much of Jimmy when he came to stay with us. But at least he pays the rent," he said, hiding his face in his hand for a moment.  
  
"Oh really?" Doggett asked. "So which of you guys is he sleeping with?" He gave Byers a wicked grin.  
  
Byers tilted an eyebrow at him. "I think he's more interested in women than in any of us, thank god."  
  
"I didn't think he was your type anyway," Doggett said, and turned back to the show.  
  
"And what, pray tell, do you think is my type?" Byers asked.  
  
Doggett just smiled.  
  
When Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz went into their duet of 'It Couldn't Please Me More,' Doggett looked back at Byers. "Pineapples."  
  
Byers chuckled. "They're great in sweet and sour pork."  
  
"What, you want I should bring you one?"  
  
Byers grimaced. "Not if we have to sing that song."  
  
Doggett laughed. "Half the audience already is."  
  
Byers shook his head. "I can't sing."  
  
"How do you know? You ever try?"  
  
"Yes. It was hideously embarrassing."  
  
Doggett looked at Byers, a doubtful expression in his eyes. Byers wondered if this meant an attempt to prod him into singing might materialize at some point. It wouldn't work. Nothing would get him to sing. He settled into silence again, watching the show and Doggett until the cast sang a chilling reprise of 'Tomorrow Belongs to Me' and went into the intermission.  
  
"So what do you think so far?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers shuddered. "It's very well done," he said. "Maybe a little too well done."  
  
"I really like the authenticity though," Doggett said. "The costumes are great. Really good acting. It's supposed to effect you like that."  
  
"I know. That doesn't mean I have to be comfortable with it." Byers looked up at Doggett. "I think I'd like another beer. Something not German."  
  
"How about a Guinness or something?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers nodded. "Sounds about right." He didn't usually drink much, and figured he would probably be a little tipsy by the time they got back to the hotel, but he didn't really think Doggett would mind. Maybe it would crack a few of his inhibitions and let him think about some of the things that were bothering him. Trust. Closets. Fear. Silence. Desire. Intimacy. He squeezed Doggett's hand, still in his lap.   
  
Doggett squeezed back, warm and reassuring. He ordered a Guinness for Byers and another German lager for himself when the waiter hurried over.  
  
Byers just hoped that if they had more to drink at dinner, he wouldn't end up with a hangover. He hated them with a blazing passion because they kept him from being clear-headed enough to work. He didn't want to even consider how they made the inside of his head and his stomach feel like they were filled with hot, whirling sand. Byers doubted that it would be an issue for Doggett, who was larger and rather bulkier. The athletic man could probably put away several more than he could without even noticing. He sipped slowly, letting the bitter richness of the thick, dark stout roll over his tongue.  
  
"Thanks," Byers said. "This is better."  
  
Doggett nodded. "No problem. What's on your mind? You got that far away look again."  
  
"A lot of things, really," Byers said. He hadn't realized he was that obviously lost in thought. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Why are you apologizing?"  
  
Byers lowered his eyes. "I should be having fun. You went to all this effort and expense, and I'm sitting here brooding." He looked back up at Doggett.  
  
Doggett's eyes were kind and understanding. He leaned closer to Byers. "I've been getting the impression since I met you that you're just that kinda guy, Johnny. I don't expect you to flick a switch and be all sunshine and light, you know. Are you enjoying yourself at all, or would you rather leave?"  
  
"Oh, no, not at all. I'm actually quite enjoying the play, it just --"  
  
"Makes you think," Doggett said, anticipating his words.   
  
Byers nodded, his mouth still slightly open. He would have expected that from Frohike or Langly, but not from John Doggett. It was an odd feeling; almost too intimate. His body tilted closer under its own volition, and he barely noticed. He wasn't sure what to make of the feeling, whether to be happy or terrified. They were so close to each other now, their faces only inches away. Their eyes locked for just a moment and something deep and unspeakable flashed between them, setting his heart pounding. He saw Doggett's eyes widen for an instant, dark with desire, then Byers pulled away, knowing how close he'd come to kissing the man in public. He shoved down a wave of panic and took a deep breath, picking up his Guinness.  
  
"Johnny," Doggett asked quietly, "are you gonna be okay?"  
  
What the hell did he want from himself, Byers wondered. The whole weekend he'd been doing things he'd never even consider doing with or around anyone else. "I'm not sure," Byers said. "I think so."   
  
What was it about Doggett that brought these things out of him? He'd thought at first that he understood what was happening, that it was just about sex and having someone to talk to and be with now and then; that Doggett would help him get away from the office sometimes and show him a few of the nicer things in life. Now it was confusing and a little frightening and he was having a hard time focusing on anything but the man holding his hand under the table. He sipped at the stout to cover his nervousness.  
  
Doggett squeezed his hand again. "If you want to leave, just let me know. Now would be the time for it, before we get into the second act."  
  
"No, no," Byers said. "I'll be fine. I want to stay. There's just been so much on my mind this weekend that I guess I'm having a hard time focusing." On anything but him, Byers thought. Doggett's strong hand in his, squeezing, gave him a center in the midst of his confusion.  
  
Doggett nodded, looking doubtful. "Well, if you're sure..."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'd like to see the rest of the play. It's really well done. It would be a shame to miss it just because I'm in a weird mood." He sipped at the stout again, then looked back at Doggett. What he really wanted was to be sitting with Doggett's arms around him, but he couldn't even ask for that under the circumstances. He hated having to hide it all, hated having to conceal and deny such an integral part of himself.   
  
If he were sitting here with a woman, any woman -- even one in Doggett's position -- no one would notice such a thing. It would be commonplace, expected that a man and a woman out together might hold each other. And yes, this was New York, and 'nobody' would notice, 'nobody' would care, but there was so much at risk, not the least of which was Doggett's job and his security clearance. If the Bureau found out -- Federal policies might state that they couldn't discriminate due to sexual orientation, but Federal policy meant nothing if someone was looking for an excuse. He knew Kersh was gunning for Doggett's ass, having stuck him in the basement to begin with. If nothing else, Byers' own history would make him a very questionable person to be sleeping with an FBI agent, and who knew what the shadows would do if they found out.  
  
The lights went down and the Kit Kat Band began playing. He tried to lose himself in the music, but the whole theme of the show only pushed his silence and what he tried to hide about himself into his face.   
  
He wondered how Doggett could sit there so calmly, smiling and obviously enjoying the show. He envied the man's contentment in this environment, his easy willingness to take risks. Byers wondered why they were being so blatantly... together in public. This was nothing like going out for a beer with the guys, nothing like seeing a movie or going to dinner with them. It felt dangerous and forbidden.  
  
Fraulein Schneider's 'What Would You Do?' ripped at his conscience. He did his best to expose the lies and the conspiracies that the government perpetrated, but what of the secrets he kept about himself? Was he really any less complicit than German Jews who denied their history and heritage, letting their people be dragged off to their deaths around them?  
  
As the show continued, racing toward its inevitable prison camp conclusion, Byers wondered about the complicity of his own silence about his desires for men as well as women. Could he genuinely justify hiding like he did, when others were dying around him? Did being in the closet actually make him any safer from the powers behind the conspiracies, or would it simply make it easier for him to disappear during some covert pogrom? They were hard, disturbing questions.   
  
He finished his Guinness, sitting silent as the audience applauded at the curtain calls. Dinner would be a welcome relief. He found he didn't really want to think any more, at least not right now. He'd managed to work himself into a fairly ugly depression, and wasn't sure if more alcohol would help or make things worse. Frohike had told him more than once that he was a maudlin drunk. It probably meant that alcohol with dinner would just make things worse. Coffee was probably his best bet at this point.  
  
THE PLAYWRIGHT TAVERN & RESTAURANT  
10:00 PM  
  
Finally seated in the second floor dining room, Doggett sighed and looked over at Byers. His companion had gone from uneasy to broody to depressed during the play. He realized that Cabaret probably wasn't the greatest idea he'd ever had, but he couldn't exactly have predicted the day's events when he made plans for the weekend.  
  
"Johnny, I think we really need to talk."  
  
Byers looked up at him, fear and disappointment in his eyes, as though he were expecting to be whacked on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.  
  
Doggett shook his head. "It ain't what you're thinking," he said, offering a hand to Byers over the table.  
  
Byers looked around, skittish, then reached out tentatively and took the offered hand. "How do you know what I'm thinking?" he asked.  
  
"You look like you're expecting the big kiss-off or something. That's not what I want to say at all, okay?"  
  
Byers relaxed visibly. He nodded. "Okay, you're right. That was what I thought was coming. I'm sorry."  
  
Doggett nodded. "You don't need to apologize. This isn't your fault. You've been having a rough day since we ran into Munch at the library, and a play about the rise of the Third Reich wasn't exactly the most restful thing we coulda seen tonight. We should have just skipped it. I really wish you'd said something at the intermission when I asked. I'm not a mind reader."  
  
Byers blushed and cast his eyes to the table as the server appeared. "It wasn't really the play, Jack. It was just... well... everything."  
  
Doggett ordered coffee for both of them, along with the seafood salad. It didn't look like Byers needed another beer. At this point, Doggett was worried that it would just make Byers more depressed, and that he'd end up having to carry him from the elevator to their room. The last thing he wanted was a depressed, drunk, passed out bed partner. There was time enough for Byers to sober up before they got back, and he hoped that dinner and trying to talk through it might dig Byers out of his funk.  
  
Byers opened his mouth, but Doggett cut him off. "I don't wanna hear the words 'I'm sorry' from you again tonight, do you understand?"  
  
Byers blinked, then nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said quietly.  
  
"No," Doggett said. "It's not Sir right now, it's Jack. You're... we're friends, John, and you don't have anything to apologize for right now. You need to understand that before we can really talk."  
  
Byers looked up at him, curious. "Are you sure?"  
  
Doggett held Byers' hand tight. "Yeah, I'm sure. How is it your fault for having a bad day?"  
  
"I... I guess it isn't," Byers said.  
  
Doggett nodded. "That's better." He sipped his coffee. "You know that I got no way of knowing what happened to you unless you talk to me about it, but from what you've said, I know it was pretty bad. You don't strike me as a guy who talks too much about what he's feeling, especially when you don't feel safe. I don't blame you."   
  
Byers tried to look away, but Doggett tugged on his hand and Byers looked back into his eyes.   
  
He continued. "But sometimes you have to, or you disappear. I know, Johnny. I've been there. I nearly got killed in Lebanon, and it took me a long time to get through that. Same with after Luke died." He paused, watching Byers holding his breath. "It's just looking like it's time for you to talk about whatever it is that's bugging you so much. Maybe not right now, over dinner, but tonight. Just think about it until we get back to the hotel, okay?"  
  
Byers nodded, then gently pulled his hand away. "I'll think about it," he said with a heavy sigh. "Maybe you're right. I can't say I feel very safe, but maybe it is time."  
  
"Is there something that would make you feel good to talk about?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers looked thoughtful for several minutes, then a tiny smile stretched his lips. "Yes, actually, there is." At that, he launched into a lengthy, enthusiastic, and complicated discussion of the story he'd been working on for the last two weeks; something involving nanotechnology that Doggett couldn't follow half of.   
  
After Doggett ordered dinner, he would interrupt Byers from time to time to ask questions, trying to understand what he was saying, and Byers would find other ways to explain things. Sometimes Doggett would ask Byers to go over a detail several times, and Byers would use different examples and analogies until he was able to grasp the complex concepts. By the time the rack of lamb had arrived, he was grateful for the silence while Byers ate, feeling like his brain had just run a marathon. Fortunately, the tactic had worked; Byers was much more cheerful now that he was focused on something he knew well and felt confident explaining. He also seemed almost entirely sobered up, probably from the combination of time and food.   
  
Doggett found himself astonished at Byers' technical and theoretical knowledge, and his patience in explaining the intricate, difficult aspects of his subject. While he might have the academic alphabet soup after his name, Byers' intellect was clearly a steep step above most other people's.  
  
"Where the hell do you learn all this stuff, Johnny?" Doggett asked. "You seem to know all kinds of shit. And this -- this just blows me away. You actually got me to understand most of it."  
  
Byers smiled shyly. "Like I said, I read a lot. I know how to look for things, and where. I was blessed with a good memory too, so it doesn't all slip away after I read it. Most people forget about 80 percent of what they read within a week or so of having read it, from what I understand. I don't. I mean, I don't have quite the eidetic memory Mulder does, but I think it's close. He tends to remember in a little more detail than I do. And I'm good at connecting the dots. I see patterns in data and information really well."  
  
"You'd be a brilliant intelligence analyst, you know."  
  
Byers shook his head and bit his lower lip. "They're all working for Them, Jack. I could never do that."  
  
Doggett sighed. "You may be right about that."  
  
"I'm sure of it. I'm not saying all of them are aware of it, but we both know where the information goes." Byers' eyes were fierce.  
  
"I've got a pretty damned good guess, at least," Doggett conceded. Byers' fire and passion were intensely magnetic. It was hard to think when he looked like that. Doggett could feel the pulse in his wrists, his heart was beating so hard. Damn, the man was distracting. Byers, like this, was enough to make Doggett forget everyone, everything else. Good looking, brilliant, articulate, passionate, and very sexy, it would be hard to ask for more. Of course, Byers was also moody, paranoid, twitchy, neurotic, and distant. Doggett sighed. One thing he could say for shallow guys; they were a lot simpler to deal with.  
  
"How's dinner?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers looked up from his plate, finishing his bite before he said anything. "It's really delicious. Thank you. This was a great idea."  
  
Doggett smiled, relieved. The lamb was rich and tender, melting off the bone. "Save a little room for dessert," he said.  
  
Byers gave a little smile. "Dessert?"  
  
"How does Bailey's cheesecake sound?"  
  
"Mmmmm." Byers grinned.  
  
"I thought so," Doggett said. "You look like you're feelin better. How are you?"  
  
Byers nodded. "Yeah, talking about the story helped get my head out of it. I needed that."  
  
"You gonna be okay to talk when we get back to the hotel, do you think?"  
  
Byers looked a little worried. "I'm not sure." He shifted uneasily in his seat. "I'll try, but I can't really promise anything."  
  
Doggett stroked his fingers over the back of Byers' hand. "There's no guarantees in life. Trying is good enough for this, okay? I don't want to drag you back into it, I just want to try to understand what's going on with you."  
  
"I appreciate that," Byers said, quiet. He lifted another bite of lamb to his mouth and paused. "I just can't help wondering why you even want to go through the effort, though. I mean, you've said yourself you don't usually see men for very long." He put the bite in his mouth and ate.  
  
Doggett nodded. He looked over at Byers. "I know. But it wasn't from lack of trying." He took a deep breath and let it out. "It's different. You're different. Don't ask me to explain that, because I don't think I can, but... I'm lousy at this, Johnny, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't want this to be over when we get back to DC. Hell if I know if anything's gonna come of it, and maybe it's not gonna last too long, but you're worth spending my time with. That's why I think you're worth the effort, okay?" He stuck a forkful of food in his mouth so he wouldn't have to say anything else.  
  
"It was about closets," Byers said quietly.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"At the play," Byers said. "I was thinking about closets, and complicity, and silence. About why I don't want to let anyone know this about me, why I've been so nervous when we're out in public together. I was thinking about how we're risking your job and how easy it would be for someone to use this... this time we're spending together against either of us."  
  
Doggett nodded, understanding how easily the play could lead to thoughts like that. "Heavy stuff," he said. "You know the government has anti-discrimination policies about it."  
  
"We both know those policies aren't worth the paper they're written on when somebody's looking for a reason to can you," Byers said.  
  
Doggett nodded. "True enough."  
  
Byers sighed. "And don't tell me you believe for an instant that the shadow government won't use anything they can get their hands on against either us if they're looking for a lever of some sort."  
  
"I know," Doggett said. "That's why I keep a low profile at work. Clinton's whole military 'don't ask, don't tell' policy's cost more people their careers than when they were just beatin' up faggots because they felt like it."  
  
"So does hiding even matter?" Byers asked. "Does it actually do anything to protect either of us, really?"  
  
Doggett looked at him. He understood why Byers was feeling that way right now, but he also figured that there was a lot more to it than just this. "It's not like neither of us is doing anything to try to make the world a safer place. It's not like Berlin in the 30s. We're not sitting silent while people are being dragged away. You're trying to sound the horn, and I'm trying to enforce the laws that guarantee people their rights. In or out, we'd be doing the same things. Right now, I really just think it's easier for both of us to do our jobs if we don't let people know it's personal."  
  
Byers' brow wrinkled. "I suppose that's true. But what would you do if somebody went to Kersh and suggested that you were being... indiscreet with a known felon." He looked away. "Like, say, me. Don't you think he'd try to use that against you?"  
  
"At this point, I got no idea where Kersh stands, but he sure doesn't seem to be playing on a level field," Doggett said. "You're a damned good source though, and I doubt he'd be able to touch you. You and the guys provide some of the best tips that we get in our division. I don't think he's quite ready to toss my career down the shitter over something like that. If somebody did tell him, and he asked, I wouldn't deny it. Don't think I wouldn't document him askin' about it, either; if he tried to use that -- or you -- against me, I'd have his ass up before the Ombudsman on discrimination charges so fast he'd think I was Superman."  
  
There was relief in Byers' eyes. "I guess I thought that since you weren't telling them, you might be vulnerable to blackmail."  
  
Doggett chuckled. "I'm not tellin' 'em because it's none of their goddamned business who I sleep with. It's not so much my job I'm worried about, it's somebody trying to use you -- or anybody else I might be with -- to get to me. But the straight agents have to worry about the same shit, you know. Hell, you've seen what Mulder and Scully went through. You've know 'em both a lot longer than I have. You were there for all of it."  
  
Byers nodded. "That's true. I guess I hadn't looked at it that way."  
  
"Because you're paranoid, Johnny. You think everybody's out to get you, and anything could be a valid reason." Doggett shook his head. "And yeah, in your case, there are people out to get you, but I really don't think this has anything to do with it. I don't think we've got any immediate worries about the FBI. Now, the conspirators, that's another story. Unfortunately, with them, no matter how deep you hide, if they want to find out something about you they will, so again, in or out doesn't really matter, does it?"  
  
Byers sat there, looking rather uncomfortable with the whole thing, but there was no sign of his dark mood returning. Doggett was relieved. He hoped that Byers might be able to let it go, at least for a while.  
  
"I guess I'm too used to hiding," Byers said.  
  
"More than likely. What about when you were married?" Doggett asked, trying to put it in perspective for Byers. "You were doing this back then. What did you do about all this stuff? Did you hide the fact you were married or something?"  
  
"No," Byers replied. "I just took what precautions I could and hoped for the best. The apartment had good security in it. I kept on top of our privacy as much as possible, and the guys and I covered our tracks as carefully as we could at work."  
  
"Same as anybody else with common sense," Doggett said, "except you're way better at the security and personal privacy stuff than most people." He looked into Byers' eyes. "The work we do, both of us, we run the risk of getting hurt sometimes. That doesn't mean either of us is gonna quit."  
  
"I guess I have a lot to think about," Byers said quietly.  
  
"Finish your dinner," Doggett said, gesturing with his fork. "It's gonna get cold. And I still want dessert."  
  
Byers smiled and tucked into his dinner again.  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
NIGHT  
  
"I mean, I know Langly and Skinner had to deal with some of this too," Doggett said as he closed the door behind them. "Have they been havin' any serious problems with it that you know of?"  
  
Byers sighed. They were still talking about privacy and closets and risks, as they had been at dinner. Explaining Skinner's entanglements wasn't an easy task. "Not really," Byers said. "But I think Skinner's situation has been fundamentally different than yours, and he's higher up in the power structure. We suspect, but we're not sure, that he's got people in... powerful places that may be keeping an eye on him. There are some things he just never talks about, not even to Langly. I mean, Ringo's under the impression that Skinner doesn't talk at least partly to protect him. I think that may be true."  
  
"He's had my back, Johnny. I trust Skinner." Doggett took his jacket off and tossed it over the back of the couch.  
  
"So does Langly, at least most of the time," Byers said. "But that doesn't mean we don't keep an eye on him. He's been doing his best to distance himself from some of his more problematic contacts."  
  
Doggett gave Byers a hard stare. "Just what kind of accusations are you making here?"  
  
Byers shook his head as he headed for the bedroom. "I'm not, exactly. It's just... well, I don't think he would ever do anything to hurt Langly, ever. I know he's fought hard for Mulder and Scully over the years, and that sometimes it's been at the risk of his own life, but that's something you should discuss with Agent Scully, if she'll talk about it. But because of his position with the FBI, he's been in a very precarious situation on a number of occasions. We're fairly certain that at some point somebody in the conspiracy had their hooks into him. Mulder's seen the smoker coming out of Skinner's office. That man is seriously bad news. And I can tell you that Krycek used some of that nanotech I was talking to you about over dinner to kill him -- and bring him back."  
  
"Krycek?"  
  
"Our very own one-armed man." Byers shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it up. "Alex Krycek, possibly also known as Valery Arntzen. We have no idea of his real name, his true agenda, or who he's working for. He's a wild card in all of this. He was a junior agent at the Bureau when Scully was missing for several months, and has been a serious and deadly thorn in Mulder's side ever since. Once in a while he actually does something helpful, but god only knows why. The information we've gotten from him has never been complete, but sometimes it's been enough to crack something open."  
  
"Killed him and brought him back?"  
  
"It's really complicated."  
  
Doggett shook his head, looking doubtful. "It would have to be, wouldn't it?"  
  
Byers looked over at Doggett and held his arms out to him. "Look, I'm not saying that Skinner is working at odds with us, just that he's been compromised in the past, and that he's still in constant danger. None of us knows who might try to pull his strings, or when. We keep an eye on him because we're trying to protect him, and he doesn't talk because he's trying to protect Ringo."  
  
The anxiety in Doggett's face eased, and he went over and hugged Byers. "Skinner's one of the good guys," he said.  
  
"I know," Byers said, leaning his head against Doggett's shoulder, arms around him. "All I'm saying is that there are a lot of issues that Ringo and Walter have to deal with that you and I don't, at least not directly. You're one of his agents, and he'll go to the wall for you if he can. But understand that there are forces working in his life that he can't talk about, and that may cause problems for you later. You need to be aware of this so that you can be prepared in case something happens. I don't want you getting blindsided."   
  
"So this is what you were hinting at when you said I should listen to Skinner about the whole supersoldiers thing, right?" Doggett asked, running a hand through Byers' hair.  
  
"Yes."   
  
"Thanks for letting me know, then," Doggett said. He chuckled. "Skinner and Langly. I wonder what they look like when they fuck?"  
  
Byers closed his eyes and blushed for all he was worth, trying not to picture Skinner with Langly. "I have no idea. I'm not sure I want to know." God, Langly... He took a deep breath.  
  
"Skinner's pretty damned hot for a bald guy," Doggett said, smiling.  
  
Byers shook his head. "Langly says he's... big." He turned in Doggett's arms and held his hands out, spread apart in an absurd indication of length.  
  
Doggett raised an eyebrow. "Nobody's *that* big."  
  
"Not according to Langly," Byers said. He chuckled.  
  
"Johnny, you're weird." Doggett's voice was amused and affectionate.  
  
Byers turned back into his Master's arms and pulled Doggett closer. Doggett tilted his chin up with one hand and kissed him. Byers melted against him, responding warmly. It had been a stressful day, and he was tired. More than anything, he really wanted the reassurance of physical contact. They breathed together, eyes closed, tongues slowly caressing. Doggett tasted of coffee and cheesecake, a comforting combination.  
  
Doggett's strong hands caressed his shoulders and his upper back. It felt good, helping ease the lingering soreness from the previous night's activities, and his stress from the day. Byers sighed into their kiss. He regretted that this would be the last night they spent together here. He didn't know when they'd find another chance for more than a few hours stolen out of their complicated lives. Both of them were busy, and both ended up on the road more often than Byers liked.  
  
Byers broke the kiss gently, moving his attention to Doggett's neck, while Doggett nibbled at his ear. The heat of his close breath sent a shudder down Byers' spine straight to his groin.  
  
"You in the mood to play a little?" Doggett whispered.  
  
Byers nodded, loosening Doggett's tie without taking his mouth from the soft, hot skin of his Master's throat. He moaned at the warmth of Doggett's hands roaming his body, loosening his own tie, tugging at the buttons on his shirt.  
  
"Then stop undressing me," Doggett growled, low and rough, his hands still opening the buttons of Byers' silk shirt. "But you can keep doing that with your tongue." Doggett nipped at Byers' neck as Byers' tongue traced the inner edge of Doggett's ear.  
  
"Mmmmmm..." Byers' hands fell away from Doggett's buttons and instead slid around the big man's back. He caressed the sapphire blue silk of Doggett's shirt, taking in the moving muscles of the strong body beneath. The combination of softness and rippling solidity stole his breath. He tilted his head back as Doggett's tongue slid, wet and demanding, from the hollow of his throat to the edge of beard at his chin and shivered.   
  
Doggett bit down sharp but soft at the top of Byers' throat, a wide hot presence across his neck, and Byers melted. "Uhhhhhhhhh!" Everything in him was at attention now; cock, nipples, his wildly beating heart. He felt Doggett catch his weight as his knees buckled, powerful arms bringing them body to body in a tight, erotic embrace.  
  
Doggett sucked for a moment there, growling as Byers panted, his hands fisted into Doggett's shirt as his legs came back under him. "Let go," Doggett snapped, and Byers did. Doggett quickly pulled the shirt from Byers' body, then shoved him roughly to the bed.   
  
Byers could only moan in response, eyes closed, waiting for more. His shoes and socks were pulled off. Urgent hands at his belt, and his pants were stripped from him equally quickly, followed by his silk boxers, and he lay before his Master, naked and hard.  
  
A moment later, Doggett rolled him onto his stomach and bound him with the leather wrist restraints. "Thank you, Sir," he whispered, tugging at them. He spread his legs for his Master.  
  
Doggett's hand stroked his cheeks and a finger slipped along his crack from balls to spine, then vanished. "A very tempting sight, Johnny, but not what I want just yet." Doggett's voice was low and hot with desire. He rolled Byers onto his back again.  
  
Byers opened his eyes, watching as Doggett kneeled next to him on the bed. His Master's eyes were dark, half closed and watching him as his breath caught. Doggett caressed Byers' chest and stomach with a palm, fingers following the curves of Byers' muscles and the hardness of his ribs. Byers sighed at his Master's sensual touch, arching up slightly as the hot palm crossed the peaks of his nipples. Doggett's fingers pinched and pulled, twisting, and Byers groaned deep in his chest, his eyes falling shut again.  
  
The hand slipped away, replaced by the cold pinch of nipple clips, first on one sensitive nub, then the other. Byers cried out wordlessly, then gasped when Doggett sharply tugged the chain joining his nipples. His cock leaped at the sensation, steel hard with want, and he writhed on the bed.  
  
"So beautiful, Johnny." He could hear the ache in Doggett's voice. "You're so hot like this."  
  
"Mmmm... uh... more, Sir," Byers begged.   
  
"Oh, don't worry, there's more."  
  
A hot hand on his shaft, and he could feel Doggett binding him with the cock and ball harness again, fastening the leather loops tight around him. Byers bucked into it, unable to resist the intensity of the dense, throbbing near-pain that pushed him to ecstasy without letting him fall into orgasm. He cried out again, and Doggett's broad hands stilled his moving hips. It was good, so good.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Doggett's low voice was almost a purr.  
  
Doggett's hot mouth explored him, wet and soft, lips and tongue and nipping teeth, from his forehead to the bridges of his feet as Byers moaned and writhed. Torturously gentle hands slid along his skin, teasing his sides, his abdomen, the ticklishly sensitive insides of his thighs. He couldn't form words, not even coherent syllables, as Doggett drove him deep into his submissive space. It was bliss, giving himself to his Master's will and his powerful body. Byers was empty of everything but lust and desire, and the need to submit. In this space, even his immense physical and emotional vulnerability didn't frighten him; it only drove him deeper.  
  
He felt Doggett's arms slide under him and lift him up, and he opened his eyes. He was barely conscious of being carried until he was set gently on his knees, his head and shoulders resting in a chair in the living room of their suite.  
  
Doggett's hand rested for a moment between his shoulder blades. "Close your eyes, Johnny, and wait here for me."  
  
Byers did as he was told, trembling with anticipation and need.  
  
Some time later -- it could have been a minute or an hour, Byers didn't know -- he heard Doggett return. There was the crinkle of a foil packet, and a tearing sound; was Doggett putting a condom on? His Master's hands roamed his back and his ass, smooth fingers, blunt nails, broad palms caressing and scratching him. A tug on the chain dangling from his nipples shot pleasure through him with a shock, and he yelped. It left him gasping.  
  
The first slap of his Master's hand stung his ass, and he shouted, "Ahh -- yes!" Byers was panting hard now, his entire body tingling from his Master's constant touch. His dick ached, it was so hard and bound so tightly, but that felt good too. He needed this, needed to carry it home with him for the god-knew-how-long it would be until he could have it again.   
  
He could hear Doggett's rough breath behind him, coming hard and fast. "You want more, don't you, slut?"  
  
"Yes, Sir. Please, Sir." Byers could hear the whine in his panting, shaky voice and didn't care. If it pleased his Master, if it brought more of the harsh pleasure, his dignity meant nothing.  
  
The slaps fell harder and harder until Byers was sweating, his ass radiating heat, and then a new sensation; the soft leather strands of the flogger slid over his burning flesh. Doggett made their motion a soft caress, a tingle and a tickle and a decadent gentleness that was pure torment in Byers' deep, frantic arousal.  
  
"Do you want it?" Doggett asked, his voice harsh and rumbling.   
  
"Please, Sir," Byers groaned.  
  
"Convince me," Doggett said.  
  
With a sound that was half a sob, Byers begged. "Make me burn, Sir -- hit me. God, I'm so hard, please, I need it." He could hear Doggett's breathing grow deeper, more aroused. "I'm aching for it, Sir, please, hit me, let me feel your power in it --"  
  
The leather strands fell, the sharp snap stinging across one cheek, then the other. Byers wanted to come so badly he could taste it. He felt Doggett's body close to his again, and his Master pulled at the chain on his nipples, applying a steady pressure as the flogger struck him again, then again. Byers shouted, gasping, then let out a long, low moan as the pull on his nipples continued.  
  
"Yes," Doggett groaned, striking Byers again. "Let me hear you," he commanded. "Let me hear that sound."  
  
Byers let the sound continue, falling from his lips with each breath, torn from his soul as the blows came, hard and delicious. He loved the feel of the leather falling on his ass, but the pain in his nipples was building, and he soon he was shaking from it.  
  
"Yellow," he moaned.  
  
He could feel Doggett pull the next blow, slashing by in the air next to him, and releasing the chain he held. "What do you need?" His Master's voice was in his ear, soft and concerned, a gentle hand on his back. "Are you all right, Johnny?"  
  
Byers panted and nodded. "Clips... too much..."  
  
Doggett's hands loosened the clips slowly, removing them with care. The returning circulation sent a bright shaft of pain into them and Byers shuddered and hissed, a tear of pain leaking from his eye. His Master's hot palms rested on his chest, covering and soothing the aching nubs.  
  
"Is that better?" Doggett asked a moment later. His clothed body covered Byers, comforting; his hard rod pressed against the back of Byers' thigh.  
  
Byers nodded, still panting, close to the edge. Feeling his Master like this only made him want more.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes, Sir," Byers whispered. "Everything else... okay... that was just a little too much."  
  
Doggett kissed him, licking the tear from his skin. "Good, Johnny," he whispered. "Always tell me. Do you want the flogger again?"  
  
Byers nodded again. "Please, Sir, I'm so close. I need more. Make me come, please. I want to come for you."  
  
He could feel the heat of Doggett's breath on his neck as his Master chuckled. "You will, Johnny, oh, you will. I'll give that to you in time." His Master took a breath. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, "what you give me is so beautiful." Doggett kissed his neck, then rose and caressed Byers' ass with his hand again.   
  
A gentle slap with a hand, and then the flogger fell once more. Byers gritted his teeth and groaned loudly. "Ohhhhhh, please..."  
  
Doggett brought the flogger down again and again, and Byers bucked into the air under him, crying out with need. The only thing keeping him from release was the tight harness binding his cock, separating his balls. He could feel it building in him, fever and intense pressure, his body glistening with sweat. He struggled with the restraints at his wrists, needing to move, his body unable to contain the raw, animal passion burning in him.  
  
"Do you want the belt, Johnny?" Doggett's voice was straining, panting.  
  
"Fuck me, Sir," Byers groaned, "please!" His ass was blazing, his cock pounding and about to burst, and he needed to be filled like he needed to breathe. Everything in him was focused, laser sharp, every nerve screaming for release.  
  
Doggett quickly slicked Byers' opening, sliding a lubed finger in and out of him before he could react, then took his arms and lifted him to his feet. "Oh, yeah. God, you're so ready."   
  
Byers felt himself pulled around, then down into Doggett's lap. His Master's hands spread Byers' legs over his own, laying him wide open, and pulled him back into Doggett's chest. It was like Friday, at the club, and his raw, burning ass felt his Master's shaft in the crack, hot and slick, the latex tight around his thickness.  
  
"Yes," Byers gasped. "Please, Sir, I need you in me, fuck me, please..."  
  
Doggett's hands lifted his ass, settling Byers over the blunt tip of his cock. "Remember Friday?" Doggett growled, "remember Sergio begging me to fuck you in front of him?"  
  
Byers shouted and struggled to push himself down on his Master's thick rod. "Yes! Yes, Sir, please!" He could see Brentali, feel the man's hands on his skin, hear his voice begging Doggett to fuck Byers while he watched. It burned in him like a solar flare. God, he wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything, wanted Doggett inside him.  
  
"This is what I wanted to do to you," Doggett snapped, and shoved his well-slicked shaft into Byers to the root with one hard, fast stroke.  
  
Byers howled as Doggett drove into him, his Master's hands loosening the harness on his cock and balls. He came with his Master thrusting into him deep and hard, fucking him mercilessly, still growling in his ear.  
  
"This is what I wanted to show him," Doggett gasped, "what I wanted to give you. You're mine, Johnny, mine." Doggett's hips rocked into him, fierce, and Byers kept coming, gasping and crying with the intensity of his release. His Master's hands were everywhere on his body, moving fast and pressing into him hard with the force of his own orgasm.   
  
Doggett shouted and spasmed under Byers, driving in harder, biting his shoulder and stroking Byers' throbbing, spurting cock. Byers' head thrashed, bumping against Doggett's shoulder as he lost all sense of himself. Only burning bliss was left.  
  
Gasping and shuddering, they spiraled down from the heights. Their hearts were pounding staccato rhythms, eyes closed, mouths open as their motion slowed.  
  
Doggett held Byers' body against him. He was dizzy, and Byers' tight, sweet ass was still squeezing him hard. His fist was still around Byers' shaft and their chests were heaving together. Byers was starting to go limp in his arms, moaning quietly. He'd probably have to carry him back to bed, once he thought his own legs would be steady enough to bear their weight.  
  
It was obvious to him that if he ever had the chance, he'd have to get together with Brentali to play with Byers. His sub's reaction to the idea was intense, and it was easy fantasy fuel. His own reaction to the idea of taking Byers in front of Brentali was a strong one, and there was no real reason not to follow up on it at some point. He knew Brentali would be enthusiastic about it. Friday night had been more than enough evidence.  
  
He looked down to Byers' shoulder, pleased that he hadn't drawn blood or left a serious bruise. With one trembling hand, he caressed the spot gently.  
  
Finally able to breathe well enough to speak, he kissed Byers' ear softly. "How are you doing, Johnny?" he asked quietly.  
  
Byers was still coming down from full-body shakes. "Unnh..." was all he managed, but it was a content sound. Doggett chuckled and squeezed him tight, still buried in his body.  
  
Carefully, Doggett loosened his arms. Byers lay slumped against him, head lolling back on his shoulder. He slid his hands between them, separating the wrist restraints, and pulled Byers' hands in front of them. There was no need for the bondage now, and they would both be more comfortable this way while they rested. He unbuckled the harness and removed it from his sub's cock and balls completely, and for once, Byers didn't even whimper about it. Doggett had fastened it more tightly this time than he had before, after seeing how much Byers liked it.   
  
With a gentle hand, Doggett caressed Byers' softening shaft.  
  
"Sweet," Byers whispered.  
  
Doggett grinned. "It lives."  
  
Byers' head shook gently as he rested it on Doggett's shoulder. "No it doesn't," he muttered. "I think it shot its last load."  
  
Doggett laughed quietly. "I hope not."  
  
"For tonight, anyway," Byers said. He was still trying to catch his breath. "You're still in me," he whispered. "God, feels good."  
  
"Mmm," Doggett replied, "not much longer though." His pants were going to be a mess. He'd have to have the suit cleaned when he got back to D.C., as there wasn't enough time for the hotel to have it done before they'd have to be up in the morning. They were booked on an early commuter flight so they'd be back in time for Doggett to be at the Hoover Building for work. They'd have to get to bed soon.  
  
Doggett slid his hands under Byers. "Pick your ass up a little. I need to pull out of you."  
  
Byers grumbled but did so, his legs shaky. Doggett grabbed the end of the condom and slipped out of him gently.  
  
"Wish you didn't have to do that," Byers muttered.  
  
Doggett kissed his cheek as he pulled the full condom off himself. "Me too, but it's done now. We need to go get cleaned up and get into bed."  
  
Byers closed his eyes and groaned. "Do we have to?"  
  
"What, go to bed?"  
  
"No, get up right now."  
  
Doggett grinned. "You're gonna be asleep in about three seconds if we don't, and you know it."  
  
"Wanna sleep here." Byers pouted his lips.  
  
"Oh, don't even try that shit on me, boy," Doggett said, laughing. He poked his hips up under Byers, jostling him. "Get your skinny ass outta my lap so I can get this messy suit off. You came all over the place."  
  
Byers looked over at him and blushed. "I'm --"  
  
"Don't even say it," Doggett said, a warning tone in his voice.  
  
Byers looked sheepish and leaned forward with a groan. Doggett put a hand on his back to steady him. After a moment, Byers rose to his feet.   
  
Doggett could see how red his sub's ass was. The stripes stole his breath. If he hadn't just come, they would have aroused him again. He ran a hand lightly along the smooth roundness of each cheek, then slid his arm around Byers' waist and pulled him close. He kissed the still-hot flesh gently.  
  
Byers sighed. "That was so good," he said, quiet, a tiny shiver running through his muscles.  
  
"You're so hot, Johnny," Doggett whispered, letting him go.   
  
Byers turned to him. "So are you." A tiny, shy smile curved his lips.  
  
Doggett's heart skipped a beat, and he smiled back with a contented sigh. God, what Byers did to him should be a federal felony. He rose, sliding his arm around Byers' waist, and they went to clean up.  
  
~~end chapter 3 of 4~~ 


	4. Monday

(Disclaimers in Chapter 1)  
  
PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL  
ROOM 1246  
MONDAY MORNING  
4:00 AM  
  
Byers was groggy when the alarm went off. He thought they might have managed three and a half hours of sleep, but wasn't sure. Actually, he didn't even want to know. What he wanted was to go back to sleep with Doggett's arms around him, but the man was stirring next to him.  
  
With a huge yawn, Doggett stretched. "Mornin'," he mumbled.  
  
"It can't be morning yet," Byers complained, "the birds aren't awake." He yawned as well, stretching, then wrapped himself back around Doggett's solid body.  
  
Doggett's arms curled around him, holding him close. "No, but anybody who wants to be on our flight back to D.C. has to be. You can sleep on the plane." He nuzzled his nose into Byers' hair and sucked on his ear.  
  
Byers sighed. He moved his head and looked into Doggett's tired eyes. "We don't have time."  
  
"I know." There was regret in Doggett's voice. "Doesn't mean I can't want to."  
  
Byers nodded. "I guess we'll have to settle for saving water."  
  
Doggett chuckled quietly. "I guess."  
  
Byers reached up and caressed Doggett's cheek. "Thank you." He kissed Doggett softly.  
  
"I'm glad you came," Doggett said. "It was a good weekend."  
  
Byers smiled and lowered his eyes. "I really did enjoy it. I can't believe you actually did all this for me. It must have cost a fortune."  
  
"Only a little one," Doggett said, returning the smile. "I think it was well spent." He slid a hand along Byers' back, over the curve of his cheek, and around to his hip. "But we gotta get out of bed and get ready to go."  
  
Byers groaned and rolled over, tossing the light covers back. He sat and slid his feet to the floor. "I get the bathroom first," he said.  
  
"What is this, a competition?" Doggett asked, looking up at him.  
  
Byers chuckled. "Years of habit. You live with Langly long enough, you learn you have to get to the bathroom before he does, or he uses all the hot water washing his hair."  
  
Doggett laughed. "I thought we were gonna share the shower?"  
  
Byers looked down at him, arms crossed over his chest. "That doesn't mean I want you in the bathroom while I'm taking a piss." That was something Byers honestly found embarrassing. He was far too shy to relieve himself in front of anyone under anything approaching normal circumstances. He may have spent more time than he ever wanted to in city and county jails over the years, forced to do his duty in public, but it didn't mean he had to let anyone violate his privacy when he had any choice in the matter.  
  
Doggett shook his head, still laughing. "Okay, not a problem. You go first."  
  
It wasn't long before they were in the shower together. Byers found himself moving a little more slowly than usual, despite their deadline. It was his last chance to see Doggett like this, nude and relaxed, muscles rippling powerfully under his skin. His last chance to touch him with nothing between them. He didn't know if they'd be together again, no matter what Doggett had said. There had been too many broken promises in his life, too many disappointments. He would cherish this for what it had been, and drink in the last moments of it, because the future was uncertain and words were never sure.  
  
He wanted to believe Doggett, still wanted to trust him, but the paranoid cables knotting his guts wouldn't let him. Last night had been reassuring though, particularly when Doggett had listened when he'd asked to slow things down. He was genuinely beginning to believe that Doggett actually respected him. If respect was all that came with the pleasures he'd had, it was still a good thing, and more than he had really hoped for. It was more than he got from most people.  
  
After they washed, they stood under the hot water, holding each other, sharing a deep kiss. When they were dry, before they dressed, they did again. As they packed, their bodies brushed against each other, and before they stepped out the door of their room, after the final check of all the drawers and tables and closets, one last embrace and a hard, sensual kiss. They would have no more privacy, no more opportunity.  
  
"When we have time," Doggett said, "I do want to see you again. We won't be able to do anything like this again for a long time, but I still want to spend time with you. I mean it. More than just coffee or lunch." He looked into Byers' doubting eyes. The doubt bothered him. "Maybe you could come to my place for the night sometimes when we're not both buried in work."  
  
"I'd like that," Byers said quietly. That tiny smile of his appeared again, and Doggett felt something in himself lighten. Seeing it meant something to him.  
  
They checked out and left the hotel, grabbing a cab to the airport. Doggett watched Byers during the trip. Both of them were tired, not saying much. He was pretty sure Byers would sleep on the plane. The bearded man looked exhausted. In fact, he spent most of the cab ride leaning on Doggett's shoulder, half asleep.  
  
Doggett slid an arm around Byers as he leaned, knowing the cab driver didn't give a shit. Byers was too tired to protest, and just lay his head against Doggett and rested.  
  
As Doggett paid the driver at the airport and he and Byers hauled their luggage out of the trunk, something in the crowd caught his eye. He blinked and looked more closely, not sure of what he'd seen -- not wanting it to be what he'd thought.  
  
It was.  
  
Knowle Rohrer was standing down the concourse. There was a newspaper in his hands. Doggett was sure he'd seen Rohrer looking their way before he'd looked back down at the paper.  
  
Shit.  
  
Cold fear gripped Doggett's gut. If his suspicions were correct, and Rohrer was one of the supersoldiers, they could be in over their heads in a bad way. He wondered how long Rohrer had been shadowing them, and if the man had identified Byers. The last thing he wanted was to endanger his companion.  
  
Suddenly, he realized that Byers had been right. They hadn't been paranoid enough. He saw the shy man's insistence on keeping their expressions of affection private in a very different light. Blackmail, Byers had said, was only a minor worry -- it was being used against his friends or murdered that were his real fears. Doggett's understanding of the hacker's paranoia, and his wisdom, deepened.  
  
Nervous, he hurried Byers through the crowd to the security checkpoint. He wondered if he should tell the man what he'd seen. He spotted Rohrer once more as they passed through security, but lost track of him in the crowd. Why was Rohrer here? Why was he in New York at all, and how long had he been here? It might be a big city, but his presence was too unnerving for Doggett to consider it a coincidence.  
  
If he didn't tell Byers, and the man found out, he'd never earn his trust. He knew he couldn't keep this disturbing fact from him. Unfortunately, Byers was probably his best bet for finding out why Rohrer had been in New York, and for how long.  
  
At the gate, he looked around again, scanning the crowd.  
  
"Is everything okay?" Byers asked, looking sleepy but puzzled. "You've been rushing us to the gate, and you look like you're looking for someone.  
  
Doggett sighed. "We've got trouble. We're being tailed."  
  
Byers stiffened, still exhausted, but alert. He scanned the crowd as well. "By whom?"  
  
"Guy named Knowle Rohrer. Used to be a buddy of mine back in the Marines. He's the one who set me and Mulder up, tried to get us killed, when you guys were trying to hack the Census Bureau records a while back. I'm not sure, but..." Doggett paused, nervous.  
  
"But what?"  
  
"I think he may be one of the supersoldiers."  
  
Byers' eyes widened. "What do you think he wants?"  
  
Doggett shook his head. "No idea. Maybe it has something to do with those files you guys got for me last month."  
  
"Damn. Maybe there's something here in the City, and he thinks you're on to it? Do you think he knows we're here together?" Byers asked softly. He shuddered.  
  
Doggett grimaced. "I'm pretty sure he saw us getting out of the cab together, and I saw him when we were passing through security, so yeah, he knows we're traveling together at least. I don't know if he knows who you are, though. I sure as hell hope not." The thought of Rohrer identifying Byers twisted Doggett's gut.  
  
"God, I'm glad we're going home," Byers said, tense and anxious.  
  
Doggett laid a hand on his shoulder. "When we get back to DC, we'll need to find out what we can about what he's doing here and why."  
  
Byers nodded. "I know."  
  
"But there's nothin' we can do until we get home anyway except keep an eye out for him until we get on the plane. I know you're still really tired. I want you to at least try to sleep once we're off the ground," Doggett said.  
  
Byers sighed, still scanning the crowd. "I may have to. I've been having trouble keeping my eyes open since we got out of the shower. I don't like it, though. This bothers me. A lot."  
  
"You're not the only one."  
  
As soon as their row was called for boarding, they hurried to the plane, Doggett staying a few steps behind Byers to keep watch. He hadn't seen Rohrer again, much to his relief. It was vaguely possible that Rohrer's presence was a coincidence, but Byers didn't seem to believe in any such thing.  
  
"Once may be chance, twice might be a coincidence, but three times is definitely a conspiracy,"   
Byers observed as they climbed the stairs into the small plane.  
  
"This time, I don't think it's your paranoia talking," Doggett conceded as they sat and buckled themselves into their seats. "But let's at least try to leave it for now. He's not on the plane with us, and he's really unlikely to make it back to DC before we get there."  
  
Byers nodded. "That's a relief, at least."  
  
When the plane was in the air, Doggett saw Byers relax, the tension sliding slowly away. The drone of the engines covered the conversations around them, and they had some feeling of privacy, at least to talk.  
  
For a little while, Byers looked uneasy, as though he wanted to say something, but couldn't find a way to approach it.  
  
"Did you want to talk about something, Johnny?" Doggett asked.  
  
Byers looked over at him and blushed. "Uh... actually, yes I did." He turned his eyes down to his hands, folded in his lap.  
  
"It's okay to talk to me, you know."  
  
"It's more of a question, really."  
  
Doggett touched his arm gently then drew his hand away. "What's on your mind?"  
  
Byers shifted uncomfortably, clearly struggling with whatever it was. "It's... well, I kinda wanted to ask you something about when we were... at the club Friday."  
  
Doggett leaned back into his seat. "Something about Sergio?" His curiosity was definitely piqued.  
  
Byers shook his head. "No, actually. Something else entirely. It's... I guess there are things about the whole idea that I don't understand. Maybe this'll sound like a really weird question." Byers paused again.  
  
"Well, I won't know until you ask."  
  
"There was a man there, at the club," Byers said uneasily, "when we first went in. He was lying there on the floor, wearing a collar and a leash, and nothing else. It was like he was being a dog, lying at this guy's feet. I guess... I guess I don't get that. I mean, why would somebody want to be treated like a dog? What would he get out of that? It doesn't even seem like it would be about sex, you know?"  
  
Doggett looked at Byers and sighed, thinking for a minute. "Well, I guess the best way to answer that would be to ask you why you want what you want? Why do you want to let me do the things to you that you let me do? You know it doesn't make sense to other people. You told me that your ex didn't understand at all. So why do you want it?"  
  
They looked at each other for a moment, silent.  
  
Byers looked down at his hands again, deep in thought. He started to say something several times, but stopped himself, thinking about it more. Eventually, he looked up at Doggett. "I'm not sure I can really explain it," he said. "I don't think I have the words to articulate what I feel. It's like... it's sort of like how the moon pulls the ocean into tides. There's this force inside me. It's deeper than just wanting something, deeper than a need. There's something... primal about it."  
  
He took a deep breath and looked away from Doggett. When he spoke, his voice was quieter, barely audible over the engine noise. "After Doreen, I wondered if I should want, or need, or be... drawn to something like that. Her attitude was that a man shouldn't want to be tied up or dominated or penetrated. That a man should want power, want to be in control. I've run into that attitude in a lot of places. I guess it left me wondering if I really was much of a man."  
  
Doggett reached out and touched Byers' cheek gently. "You are, Johnny. Believe me. I've got no question at all about your manhood. It takes an incredible amount of courage to do the things you do in your work. You're not a coward, and you're sure as hell not a wuss. What you want to do for your pleasure has nothing to do with bein' a man or not. The scene's not that simple, and it never has been. A lot of really powerful, in control guys are subs when they're not in the office."  
  
Byers looked over at Doggett again. "Well, what about you? Is it different, being a Dom?"  
  
Doggett shook his head. "I've been a sub, Johnny. It's the same for me, whether I'm the top or the bottom. It's not something I can really talk about rationally. They're things you understand with your body, not your mind. It's about gut feelings. It's about what makes your blood hot and your dick stand up and what makes you scream when you come. That's stuff from before we were even human, about territory and animal instincts and hormones."  
  
"I always preferred answers with words," Byers said. "I need to have definitions, Jack. I mean, I get what you're saying, but I still wish I could explain it."  
  
"I don't think anybody can explain it anymore than they can explain why some of us aren't 'just' gay or straight," Doggett said. He chuckled. "All this 'gay gene' stuff, it doesn't leave any room for you or me, does it?"  
  
Byers snorted. "No, not really." He pulled the arm rest up from between their seats and tucked it between the seat backs, then leaned into Doggett. Shifting his weight for a moment, he found a comfortable position. "And that's another thing I have no answer for, but I guess I was more comfortable contemplating that question because it didn't bother me as much."  
  
Doggett slid his arm around Byers. "When you get right down to it, it's really just about what turns you on. All of it, whether you're talking about kinks or who you sleep with."  
  
Byers yawned and settled against him. "God, I'm so tired."  
  
"So sleep." The words were gentle and indulgent. Doggett leaned his cheek against Byers' head.  
  
Byers sighed. It was probably a good idea. By the time he got home, the guys would be up and working on the upcoming issue. He was sure he'd have to give them some kind of trip report about his weekend. He hadn't really been ready to tell them he was going away with Doggett, but he couldn't exactly keep it hidden from them either. It wasn't like they wouldn't be able to figure it out on their own, so he'd told them as he headed out the door on Friday. There would be teasing and questions and explanations, and the inevitable questions from Jimmy that would probably require a sports analogy and single syllable words to answer. He needed to be in a condition at least vaguely resembling alertness to deal with it.   
  
And Rohrer. He'd have to tell the guys about Rohrer, and they would need to start looking into him fast. He yawned again. It was comfortable, leaning on Doggett's broad chest, resting his head against the man's shoulder. He was too tired to care that people could see Doggett had his arm around him, and too comfortable in the warmth of that embrace to fret. He'd worry later.  
  
Doggett raised his head and looked down at Byers as the slender man fell asleep. The weekend had been eye-opening in so many ways. Rohrer's appearance, and his reaction to it, his desire to keep Byers out of harm's way, had gotten him thinking about what Brentali had said at breakfast Saturday.   
  
Talking to Brentali had left him questioning his own motives about Byers, about what he'd offered the man. Being with Byers had made Doggett think more about his needs and desires than he had in years, and not just because Byers had been questioning his own. There was much more going on here than he'd thought when he first suggested that they play together.  
  
He'd been in and out of brief relationships for a long time, before and after his marriage. Most of them hadn't meant too much. Doggett had always been hesitant to get too involved outside of the game. It was mostly about satisfying his sexual needs, about mutual pleasure, and sometimes, if a guy seemed okay, about trying to stay together for a while. He really had tried, a few times.  
  
With Byers, though, he thought about so much more. Yeah, the sex was good -- really good. But so many times over the weekend he found himself thinking about other things, wondering what was going on in the man's head, finding himself wanting Byers' trust more than he'd wanted it from other men. It felt different; important. Little things took on a life of their own. Byers was a man he could respect, a man he could trust; he was an honorable and decent man, even if he was a little odd. Doggett realized that he cared.  
  
Maybe... maybe Brentali was right. He sighed and stroked the face of the shy, nervous man sleeping in his arms.  
  
Maybe this thing with Byers was a lot more serious than he thought.  
  
~~end chapter 4 of 4~~  
  
**fin** 


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